Sushi Ocean
by The-Lady-Isis
Summary: Drabble series, fifty words, the first being 'Sushi' and the last 'Ocean', get it? Read and review please! All BMWW, and I don't own a darn thing.
1. Sushi

**A/N: Welcome to my drabble series. Inspired by AQ's **_**Realities**_**, so thanks there :) Each one is based on a word fed to me by a prompt table. Enjoy! **

**Sushi**

"Diana, you are being ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous, I just...fancy a cheeseburger."

"There are better places to go for a cheeseburger than _MacDonald's_."

"Here?"

"Exactly! We're here! You don't go to MacDonald's in Tokyo, Princess."

Diana crossed her arms and looked away. Slightly different to Paris, a mission had found Wonder Woman in the Japanese capital at the same time Bruce Wayne had been needed to oversee a merger. Needless to say, thanks to some rogue robots and a flesh-eating virus, things hadn't gone according to plan, though no harm had been done in the end.

And now Bruce (back out of the Batsuit) was trying to convince Diana that she couldn't be in Tokyo and not have sushi. He'd managed to coax her into one of the best sushi restaurants in the whole city, and order for them, but now she was staring in barely-hidden disgust at the food on her plate.

"You're an ambassador at the UN, your apartment is in New York- how have you never had sushi before?"

"I just haven't," she answered. "And it's never appealed."

"Why, because it's raw fish?"

"Well...yes."

"Relax, Diana, it's not like I'm asking you to eat Fugu."

She made a face. "Fugu?"

"Blowfish. It's toxic unless prepared correctly. A delicacy."

She dropped her chopsticks, and expression of horror on her face. "Toxic? You're feeding me poisonous food?"

He fought the urge to bury his face in his palms. "No. I am not. You have Nigirizushi. It's just rice, some wasabi and the topping."

She picked up her chopsticks again and used them to lift a piece up to her eyes, scrutinising it closely. "And this topping is?"

"Unagi. Freshwater eel."

She shuddered and put it down. Bruce sighed and got up, walking around the low table to kneel behind Diana. "Well first..." He took her hand in his, correcting her grip on the chopsticks. "Right, now close your eyes."

She shot him a suspicious look over her shoulder, but did close her eyes. "Now what?"

He manipulated the chopsticks to pick up a piece of sushi. "Now open your mouth," he breathed in her ear.

A shiver raced over her skin, and he smirked, moving his mouth closer to her ear. The shifting of his position slightly let him see more of her face, see the slow opening of her moist red lips. Realising that this had suddenly become an act of seduction, Bruce actually smiled. He knew this game. "Bite down," he whispered.

Apparently determined not to be outdone, Diana licked her lips provocatively and took a mouthful of the food. "Chew slowly," he ordered. "Let it melt on your tongue."

She grinned and did so, savouring the flavours on. Finally she swallowed with a small moan of delight that made his fingers tighten reflexively around the chopsticks. "It's good," she said, sounding surprised.

"I told you you'd like it," he smiled. "Next piece."

She turned to face him, smiling. "I think I can feed myself now, Bruce."

"I know you can," he answered, lifting the next piece of sushi to her mouth. This time, she kept her eyes, alight with laughter, on his as she accepted it.

From that day on, Diana learned to love sushi - with the right company of course.

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	2. Oz

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This contains spoilers for _Australia_, which I don't own. **

**Oz**

Oh Christ, she was still crying.

Before tonight, he'd only ever seen her cry once. And she had a valid reason then. Superman was dead. At least they thought he was. All in all, the fact that one of your best friends and teammates had vanished into thin air - good reason to cry.

_This _was _not _a good reason to cry. This was a movie. A decent movie, admittedly, but decidedly not real. And the sweater that Diana was currently wiping her nose on was cashmere.

He handed her another tissue.

She took it and blew her nose into it loudly. "I'm sorry, but he's all by himself and she can't get to him and-" The rest of the sentence dissolved into more sobbing.

"Diana...I don't know what I can say."

He'd put up with a lot over the course of this film, even putting up with her sighing over a half-naked Hugh Jackman (he had Nicole Kidman to look at after all, he wasn't complaining), but she'd lost it with the little boy being snatched away from his surrogate mother, even threatening harm to priests.

He picked up the remote and paused the film, turning his full attention to Diana, wiping her cheeks dry. She smiled weakly. "Sorry, I must look like such a mess right now."

Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks were puffy and her nose was running. He kissed her forehead gently. "You've never looked more beautiful."

She sniffed. "Liar."

He checked that she had definitely left the Lasso of Truth in the Cave, then shook his head. "To you? Never."

She wiped her face again and kissed him softly. "Thank you."

"Ready to carry on?" he asked.

She nodded and settled comfortably against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed play. The rest of the film wasn't so bad, not counting her shredding several cushions with the air-attack on Darwin, and by the time the end came with its sweeping views of Australia, Diana was completely serene, and transfixed on the panorama of the Outback.

"That was lovely," she said, by the time they'd finished _Australia_. "And Bruce?"

"Mmm?" he asked, stroking up and down her back.

"I've decided."

"About the honeymoon?" he asked, attention sharpening. The date of their wedding was only a few weeks away, and Diana still hadn't made up her mind about where they'd go for their honeymoon - everywhere from Fiji to Paris had been discussed.

"Yes. I want to go to the magical land of Oz."

He smiled. "The magical land of Oz it is, Princess."

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	3. Forbid

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews!**

**Forbid**

"I said 'no', Diana!"

Diana huffed and consciously forced her fists to uncurl. "You are being stubborn."

"Yes," he agreed. "Simply because _you _seem to have a problem listening!"

"I listen just fine, but if what you want me to do makes no sense, then of course I'm not going to obey you."

They'd been married nine months, and Diana had restrained herself very well. Mainly because Bruce kept dropping hints that he was ready. And then this morning over breakfast to casually tell her the whole thing was off-! She'd shredded her napkin under the breakfast table.

Bruce, having no idea anything was wrong, had kissed his wife goodbye and set off for Wayne Enterprises without a care in the world. Apart from the normal cares that he carried everyday. But those cares did not include the fact that his wife was currently seething with rage at home.

Being the woman of action she was, Diana didn't sit stewing for long. She got proactive, starting the moment Bruce got home. So now they were standing in the middle of the Batcave, having a shouting match. Their first real fight of marriage. About, primarily, Diana coming out on patrol with him. Gotham was the last part of him that she didn't share.

And in her eyes it was time that changed.

"Marriage is about compromise, Bruce, you're going to have to let _something_ go!"

"I don't see you giving up anything!" he snapped.

Her mouth dropped open as outrage welled up in her. "How about every single principle I've ever held? Bruce, I was raised to hate every man I see, let alone _marry _one!"

"Well if you can change your entire belief system that quickly, change it again now," he shot back.

"You have no idea how hard it was for me to reconcile my desires with my beliefs! How dare you insinuate I'm some capricious, fickle-"

"Don't put words in my mouth, Princess."

She let out a growl. "Damn it, don't 'princess' me when I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you-"

He cut her off. "'Discussion' implies some form of rationality, _Princess_, and so far you've not displayed any."

In the breath she took before her next sentence, he pulled the cowl over his head. "I'm leaving now, and I _forbid you _from setting foot in my city without my permission."

Her jaw dropped. There was far too much anger and shock to express, and Bruce took the opportunity to get into the Batmobile and drive away. "Bastard," she growled under her breath as the tail-lights faded.

"Ahem."

She turned to see Alfred at the top of the stairs, holding a silver case in his hands. "How long have you been there?" she asked curiously.

"I have only just arrived, madam," he told her, coming down. He rested the case on an empty examination table beside her. "A small gift for you."

She raised an eyebrow. "A gift. In aid of what?" she asked.

"I felt it was time," was his enigmatic response.

She flicked the clasps open on the case and opened it. Inside was a neatly folded pile of black material, with a flared mask resting on top. "Oh _Alfred_. You _didn't._"

She looked at him, but his face was totally stoic - his emotions were betrayed only by his twinkling eyes. She turned her attention back to the case, and the dark blue bat symbol looking up at her. It was, without doubt, a Batsuit. She lifted it and held it against her body. One designed specifically for her.

"It is up to you if you wish to use it, madam. Master Bruce did forbid you from going to Gotham, after all."

She smirked as she lifted the mask. "Yes. He did, didn't he?"

---

Forty minutes later, Batman found himself surrounded by more than a dozen thugs. He wasn't worried.

He was, however, surprised and not a little angry to find another dark shadow fighting alongside him. Still, professional curiosity made him pause. He took out three of the scum-bags, then melted into the shadows, letting her take on the rest. She was good. Anyone watching wouldn't have said it was Wonder Woman at all. She didn't move like an Amazon, she moved like him, using the darkness as her tool to temporarily disappear and put the fear of God into the thugs before she came sweeping down on them again. He timed it, naturally, and for nine criminals it took her-

"Twelve point seven seconds."

She looked up, detached a grappling-hook from her utility belt and fired up to join him on the rooftop. "No doubt point two of a second slower than you could manage."

"Point four actually."

"So?" she asked finally.

Silence.

"You really signed your own death warrant you know," she commented. "The word 'forbid' is very dangerous to utter to any woman, let alone an Amazon."

"So you're in for good now?" he asked.

She ignored the derision in his tone, kept hers light. "Yes."

"And I have no say in this?"

She curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, brushing her lips against his teasingly. "Nope. In fact I forbid you from arguing about it with me again," she whispered.

And just to make sure he couldn't, Diana kissed him properly, engaging his mouth in a very different form of communication.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	4. Gun

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews. This one's pretty angsty, be warned. **

**Gun**

She thinks she understands, but she doesn't really. She tries, and it's not her fault, but the uncomplicated fact is she can't understand.

To her mind, it is this simple:

Guns kill people.

A gun killed his parents.

He hates them.

...it's not that simple.

Yes, all of those things are true, but his anathema for guns goes deeper than just hatred. It's a visceral reaction, a heaving in his gut that grows in intensity the closer he gets to them.

Guns don't just kill people; they change people. They turn the most insecure street-punk into a cocky, swaggering potential killer. It requires no discipline to use a gun. No one has to train their body for decades to inflict harm with one.

That's the thing with guns - if everyone has one, it doesn't make the world a safer place. The theory of Mutually Assured Destruction is exactly that. It can only lead to the eventual devastation of everything. Guns are a symptom of the human condition. One thing in which he agrees with her - a product of Man's World.

The desperate scramble for power, the wave that builds and then destroys everything in its path.

She tries, but she doesn't understand how a gun makes him feel.

The years pass, and she still doesn't understand. She doesn't understand until a bullet is made with his name on it. A bullet that Kevlar cannot stop.

She screams, and catches him when his suddenly weak muscles can't hold him upright. Just before the darkness claims his vision, he sees the horror and the nausea in her eyes, and knows.

Now she understands.

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	5. Smoke

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for their reviews!**

**Smoke**

Bruce - before Batman - was once told that theatricality and deception were powerful agents to employ. He took it literally, and Batman was eventually born. The fear didn't come from his ability to beat the crap out of every criminal in Gotham - the police could rough them up without a problem.

The fear came from where Ra's Al Ghul told him it would - from the image. From the insubstantiality of Batman. The fact that he was silent, could melt and fade into darkness, disappear without trace. The fact that he had no face. The fact that officially, he did not exist.

Magicians had been using smoke and mirrors for their tricks for decades, centuries. They used the smoke to entertain.

Batman used it to terrify.

The smoke paralysed you with fear, and his fist knocked you out before your body broke the spell of terror. Batman had no superpowers; he could not fly, or lift buildings - but where criminals would see Superman and shoot, they would see Batman and flee. The power of smoke and mirrors. There was no one, ally or not, who was unaffected.

Until her.

It was quite disconcerting. He'd gotten used to be able to stare everyone down. And now suddenly there was this woman who would just gaze calmly back when he tried. Granted, she was a princess, so maybe she was used to getting her own way all the time, but from what he'd learned about Themysciran society that didn't seem likely. The queen was in charge, and everyone else was just another Amazon.

So perhaps it was simply Diana's strength of character that enabled her to match him. Irritation eventually turned to admiration, then quickly into slight panic when he realised exactly how well Diana saw through the smoke.

To the point of actually seeing the real him.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	6. Trust

**A/N: I hope you'll forgive me if I don't reply to every review I get - I'm going to be updating every day, so I'll just thank you all now, and rest assured that it means the world to me if you do review. I'll reply when I have time I promise. **

**Trust**

She came to Man's World with the intention of saving it, of perhaps sticking around for a while so that she could help to bring some Amazonian principals to this broken planet. She did not intend to stay so long. She did not intend to form lasting bonds of friendship.

She did not intend to fall in love.

One of the first lessons her mother taught her was that a warrior's trust must be earned. Diana's trust was no different. Most of her comrades in the Justice League gained her trust after that first crisis.

Shayera, being a fellow sister, she found easy to form a camaraderie with.

Wally had a child's soul, but it was pure, and he would never give up.

John was a soldier like herself, and she respected his discipline.

J'onn shared her longing for home, was all alone in Man's World just as she was.

Superman - stronger than she, dedicated completely to the protection and well-being of the human race. A man with the strength of a god who was grounded in humility.

But she felt no instant bond form with any of them. It took them being bonded by trauma, by battle, being put through a baptism of fire for her to trust them.

But it was from the one who she seemed to have nothing in common with that the shock came. The one with no special powers, the one shrouded in darkness, the one with no emotion in his blank stare: it was he she trusted instantly.

There was no earning of trust — it was simply given.

Trust turned to friendship, and friendship turned into more.

She had never expected to find a man she trusted absolutely. Yet now it was only when in her most vulnerable state she felt safest. Asleep, she let her guard down totally. She was utterly defenseless.

And asleep in Bruce's arms, she was utterly protected.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	7. Joke

**A/N: More angst ahead! Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy. **

**Joke**

It was the day before when she came to him.

For the longest time, it was _her fault _he wasn't there. _Her fault _that he was in a bar drowning his sorrows when he should have been stopping his family from being ripped apart. _Her fault. _

She'd come to him, told him that enough was enough. That she would always love him, but she knew now that he would not, could not, give her what she needed from him. So now she was moving on. They would be teammates, friends. No more. She had a date, in fact, that night.

"With King Faraday," she said.

It didn't matter who with.

"I'm sorry I don't have the patience anymore, Bruce," she said.

It was never a question of patience.

"I hope you can accept this," she said.

It would haunt him to the end of his long life.

"I'm going to go now," she said.

She left, and it was like she'd never been there in the first place.

That night, Bruce went to a bar in downtown Gotham. He sat with a bottle of very cheap, very crappy whiskey, and drank himself into oblivion until dawn the following day.

Until Tim was already gone.

So it was _her fault _for the next fifty years.

But the biggest joke of all...was the fact that she gave up just when he needed her most.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	8. River

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This one is much happier! I don't own ****_Cry Me A River_, and the version I recommend is Denise Welch's version. **

**River**

Well, it was only fair, she supposed. She'd been turned into a pig, he'd sung for her.

He'd been turned into a German Shepherd, and she was singing for him. At the order of the same sorceress.

Of course, she was fairly certain that as a pig she hadn't spent the entire time humping his leg. And she hadn't attacked a police officer. Apparently the Batdog could smell corruption. He'd decided to bite at the worst possible time, too. She would have easily prevented Animal Control from taking her dog away, were she not busy being occupied by Giganta, who had decided that now would be a good time to take on Wonder Woman.

The fight had lasted all of two minutes, but it was enough time for Bruce the Batdog to be taken away. There were over fifty pounds in Gotham City, and in approximately five minutes, he'd be put down unless she could save his life. So here Diana was, in a jazz club downtown, about to sing.

And Bruce wasn't even around to see it.

"When you're ready, little Princess," Circe sneered from the front row.

Diana narrowed her eyes at her, then nodded to the band. They started up, and Diana began singing.

"_Now, you say you're lonely,_

_You cry the whole night through,_

_Well you can cry me a river,_

_Cry me a river,_

_I've cried a river, _

_Over you." _

Thankfully, Circe hadn't specified which song she had to sing, so Diana had picked her favourite one. And though she wasn't normally one to brag, she did have a good voice for it. It made her feel sexy.

_"Now, you say you're sorry,_

_For being so untrue, _

_Well you can cry me a river,_

_Cry me a river,_

_I've cried a river,_

_Over you." _

And Bruce wasn't even around to hear it.

_"You drove me,_

_Nearly drove me out of my head,_

_While you never shed a tear,_

_Remember, I remember all that you said,_

_Told me love was plebeian, _

_Told me you were through with me and,_

_Now you say you love me,_

_Well, just to prove you do,_

_Come on and cry me a river,_

_Cry me a river,_

_I've cried a river,_

_Over you."_

By the time she finished, everyone in the club stood up to applause, including the band, and one very impressed looking Circe. She walked up to the stage still clapping. "_Well_...Diana, Diana, Diana! That was amazing. I've heard sirens less mesmerising. Don't get me wrong, Princess, I still want to kill you, but you be have commended."

"Then you'll release your spell on Batman?" she asked.

Circe clicked her fingers. "It's done. You know, Diana, look me up if you ever decide to go dark-side. You and I could do some pretty fabulous duets."

Diana narrowed her eyes. "No thanks."

The witch shrugged. "Oh well, suit yourself." She vanished in a puff of purple smoke, and Diana sighed. Then became aware that the rest of the audience were still applauding. And someone had a camera. Oh joy.

She smiled and blushed slightly. "Thank you, everyone. But if you'll excuse me, I really have to be going." She made her way out of the club and put a hand to her ear. "Wonder Woman to Watchtower. Has Batman transported up yet?"

"Just arrived, Diana," John's voice answered.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Can you transport me up?"

"Engaging transport now."

A few seconds later, she materialised onboard, seeing Bruce waiting for her. She smiled at him and gave him an assessing glance - all his limbs seemed to be intact, and his usual indifferent expression fixed on. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Less canine," he said. "My experience seems parallel to yours - it's mostly a blur."

Diana nodded, deciding not to tell him he'd spent most of his time humping her leg. "Have you been to the med-bay? J'onn should really give you a physical to make sure."

His scowl told her everything she needed to know, and she took his hand briefly, pulling him along. "Come on."

"I'm fine, Princess."

"Well I don't know that until J'onn tells me," she replied. "And you know I'll carry you to the infirmary if I have to."

"Like to see you try," he scoffed, smirking a little and falling into step beside her anyway. "How did you get Circe to lift the spell?" he asked after a while.

Diana grinned. "Threatened her with my mother." It was true, she had done - only to have Circe literally laugh in her face. Singing had been Plan B.

He nodded once as they reached the med-bay. A few moments later, J'onn had assessed him and confirmed there was nothing wrong with Bruce. She ignored the 'I-told-you-so' look and thanked her Martian friend.

Suddenly the doors to the infirmary swished open, and Flash streaked in. "Aren't you supposed to be on monitor duty?" Batman asked coldly.

"Yeah, but, Wondy, you have to come see this. Like now!"

He was gone in a streak of red, and Batman and Diana followed quickly, since there could be no mistaking the urgency of Flash's tone. Once they ran into the monitor womb, it was to see Flash pointing repeatedly at the screen. What, exactly, he wanted her to see was clear. That person in the club with the camera had evidently not been idle - Wally was watching E!, and there was Diana, singing. The picture quality was a little rubbish, but the sound was crystal clear.

The princess was very aware of Bruce's stare when he turned to look at her, as well as Wally's stream of comments. "You're incredible, how did I not know you could sing, why didn't you tell any of us, because I mean wait till Shayera hears this, you know I actually know a couple people in the record business-"

Bruce's voice was harsh, curtailing Wally's babbling. "Flash. Shut up." He turned to Diana. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged. "It's no big deal. Call it returning the favour."

The phone parked next to Flash began ringing, and all three of them looked at it in shock. It was hotline from the UN headquarters in New York. The Secretary General was the only person with the number. Wally, naturally, got to it first. "Justice League Headquarters."

The voice on the other end was indistinct, and Wally's mouth dropped open. "Oh. My. God. You are _not_!"

Bruce and Diana exchanged a look.

"Holy crap you _are! _Well yeah, she's right here-"

Bruce lost patience. "Flash, who is that?"

Wally faced them with an excited grin on his face. "It's Simon Cowell! He wants to sign Diana!"

Bruce snatched the phone, and while the two men were distracted, Diana took the escape, and flew from the room. She had no desire to sign on anyone's record label, even Simon Cowell's. She headed to the commissary and fixed herself an iced mocha, sitting down and looking out at the stars. She took a long pull of her drink, grateful that its coldness helped to combat the heat rising in her cheeks.

She wasn't surprised when a black coffee was put down on the table and Bruce sat opposite her. "I take it you don't want to be the next American Idol," he commented dryly.

"No," she confirmed. "What did you tell him?"

He sipped his coffee for a moment before he replied. "I said I wasn't sure your voice was up to it."

Diana blinked. Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "Excuse me?"

"You're ok, but I'm not sure you'd be good enough to fill stadiums."

Her mouth fell open, and anger rose from her newly-wounded pride. She got up. "Cry me a river, Bruce."

His hand on her arm stopped her. "But I suppose the only way to be sure is for me to hear it again," he continued.

She raised an eyebrow, a smile pulling at her lips now. "Is that so?"

He nodded. "Yes. How do you feel about a private show? Say...over dinner at the manor tonight?"

Diana grinned.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	9. Court

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! And I have nothing against Miley Cyrus. I'm sure she's a lovely girl. **

**Court**

"I have no idea how Batman does it," Shayera groaned.

Diana smiled and took a sip of her Cabernet. They were at the ball that the US government was holding to celebrate the ten year anniversary of the founding of the Justice League. She thought it was their way of apologising for the whole CADMUS thing. Or possibly it was a clever way of getting them to lose their sanity and begin killing diplomats left, right and centre.

"Seriously. Between the ambassador of Liechtenstein and Hannah Montana I'm actually going to kill myself."

Diana just handed her friend a drink and a canape. "I think she just goes by Miley Cyrus now."

"Whatever. She's still annoying. It's like talking to Flash on a sugar high."

The princess chuckled. "It's not that bad. And I'm sure they can't all be irritating."

"None of the politicians have asked you your opinion on by-law number 357a, paragraph 7, sub-section C yet," she pointed out.

"...you just made that up, didn't you?"

Shayera shrugged. "Yes, but that doesn't mean my point is invalid." She tipped the juice in her glass down her throat, then gave it to the nearest waiter. "Right," she said, spying her fiancé across the room, "I'm going to rescue John, and then we're going home. I can use...I don't know, swollen ankles or something as my excuse."

Diana chuckled and glanced at Shayera's extended belly. She was six months along, and as far as Diana could see her ankles were the same size and shape they'd always been. "I'll see you at the next founders' meeting."

Shayera winked at her and pushed her way across the room to GL. Diana was left alone, mainly because she was sitting in the darkest corner of the room actively trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Perfecting your Batman impression?" an amused baritone asked.

She looked up to find Bruce Wayne standing in front of her, a cheeky grin on his face. "Something like that," she smiled.

He extended a hand. "Well, can I tempt a beautiful woman out of the shadows for a dance?"

She set her wine glass to one side and took his hand. "I suppose you might be able to, Mr Wayne."

He led her out onto the dance-floor and into the midst of the couples, then pulled her into his arms with surprising swiftness, one hand settling firmly onto the small of her back. "You look incredible, by the way."

She smirked. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

He shrugged. "Well yes, but I very rarely mean it."

"I appreciate the honesty," she replied. "And the dance. I was getting a little bored I have to admit."

"Not enjoying yourself so far?"

She lowered her voice. "You know me, Bruce. I'm not one for grand parties."

"Keep a secret?" he asked. "Neither am I."

"You do realise that in a minute I'm going to have to ask you to dinner," he said after a moment of silent dancing.

Diana's mouth turned down at the corners. "And I'm going to have to refuse," she said, her eyes meeting his suddenly serious gaze.

He nodded. Diana chuckled sadly. "Reputation and all that."

His hand squeezed hers gently before the playboy came forward again. His other hand slid down from the base of her spine to rest casually on her ass. "Dinner, Wonder Woman?' he leered. "I suggest my house. That way we don't have far to go for the bedroom."

She pulled away from his body. "I don't think so, Mr Wayne. I've no desire to become a notch on your bedpost."

She tried to take a step away, only to be stopped by his unrelenting grip on her hand. She raised an eyebrow, and looked back up at his face. From his expression, they were still playing. "Just the dinner then," he said smoothly. "We'll see where we go from there."

She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Again, no." She got two steps before he called after her again.

"What would it take for you to have dinner with me?"

She stopped, bit her lip slightly with a wicked grin. She turned back to him. "I'm a princess. Court me."

---

The next morning, Diana was woken by someone knocking on the front door of them New York apartment she shared with her sister. She groaned into her pillow. "Donna, get that!"

The knocking continued.

"Donna!"

More knocking. Muttering several curses in Themysciran, Diana stumbled to the door in her pyjamas and opened the door bleary-eyed. "Can I help you?"

The delivery man in front of her was hidden by the mountain of red roses he was carrying. "Some flowers for you, ma'am," he groaned out. "Can I put them down somewhere?"

"Uh, yes, in the kitchen," she said. "This way."

He moved inside, but he was followed by another six of his colleagues, all carrying flowers in the colours of red, while, blue and gold. They were all exquisitely arranged, and soon the apartment was filled with the wonderful perfume. "Who- Who are these all from?" Diana asked as she was signing for the delivery.

"There's a card in the first bouquet, ma'am," the man smiled, before leaving the apartment. Diana shut the door and found the card. Written on it were two words in a familiar script. As she read them, a grin spread across her face.

_More tomorrow. _

_---_

**A/N: Review please!**


	10. Delirious

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews!**

**Delirious **

"How long ago was he poisoned?"

Bruce knows the voice, but doesn't know who it belongs to. A friend. But he's not safe. The voice was peaked with worry. Something is wrong with him. He needs to know what, but his mouth won't respond to his thoughts. The noise he emits is not recognisable as speech at all.

"Don't try to talk, Batman."

Batman? Who's Batman? _Oh right...I'm Batman..._

The thought is hazy, unsure. He feels like he's swimming through gel. He's shivering as though he's been plunged into a snowdrift, but he's hot — too hot, the sweat's pouring off him, each drop rolling from his body and forming a lake all around him, and he can't swim in it, and he's sinking to the bottom, and he can't stop himself from drowning, and-

"V-tach! Get me the crash cart!"

There's a sharp, painful jolt racing through his body, and it's meant to do something, but for the life of him, he can't remember what. It all goes black anyway then.

The next thing he hears is the tweeting of birds. High-pitched, rhythmic. Unusual birdsong though...Beeping birdsong. A beeping bird. The thought is funny.

He's warm now - not the searing heat of a fever, just...warm...light...

His left hand is numb. He flexes his fingers slightly...and hears the voice of an angel. "Bruce?"

His eyes won't open all the way, and through the screen of his eyelashes he sees a woman's shape, leaning over him. The angel utters a prayer of thanks to God. But not his god, another – Hera? Why is that familiar?

She lifts his hand to her face and kisses it. "You were poisoned, but the fever's broken now."

Poison? Broken? Yes, he did feel broken earlier. He wonders if the angel healed him. Why can't he remember her name?

A cool hand descends on his brow, then moves to stroke his cheek. "You're strong," she whispers. "My dark knight."

Knight...knights in shining armour, slaying dragons, noble steeds, rescuing princesses-

The corner of his mouth quirks very slightly in what would be a smile if his muscles were obeying him. This time, at least, he does manage to get the word out, slurred as it is. "Princess..."

When she speaks, her voice trembles. She's crying. He doesn't want her to cry. His fingers, still by her face, touch her skin tentatively. She doesn't melt away – she's real. Relief floods him. She's real.

"My princess..."

He's floating now, and he's tiny - on a leaf drifting on the sea, and it's a wonderful sensation. He wants to tell her that, to have her lie down next to him and hold him in her strong arms. But the darkness is coming back again like a warm blanket, and he only has time to whisper her name again, then surrender to the gentle delirium.

"My Diana."

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	11. Rush

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews!**

**Rush**

Some people got their rushes from alcohol. Others from drugs. Some people were adrenaline junkies. Or liked to drive fast cars.

Bruce had always got his rushes from beating the shit out the Gotham's underworld. From flinging the Joker into a cold cell in Arkham and then driving the Batmobile home at ridiculous speeds. Sure, saving the world was an achievement, but hardly a rush.

Repelling the invaders from Mars hadn't been what he'd call a rush - more a satisfaction at getting them off his planet. When the Watchtower was built, and the Justice League formed, that wasn't a rush either. It was a: _great. More things for me to find funding for. _More things that required his attention.

"I'm not exactly a people person." He turned to Superman with a smirk. "But when you need help – and you _will –_ give me a call."

He got into the elevators, intending on going to the hanger and flying the Batwing back to Gotham. Just before the doors closed, he caught Wonder Woman's eye. She smiled. His stomach clenched slightly, a wave of tingles swept over him, and he had the uncharacteristic urge to smile back.

He didn't, but it wasn't until the elevator doors closed that he realised. Her smile gave him a rush. _Huh. _

It continued.

Saving her life after knocking her from the path of an oncoming bus.

A kiss on the cheek in Africa.

A dance in Paris.

Her body pressed against his when they sparred.

A fake kiss in an Indian restaurant.

Seeing her human again after Circe's spell was removed.

A real kiss soon after that.

Her hand in his as they walked in the manor grounds.

The gasps of pleasure he elicited from her lips as they made love.

Knowing she meant it with every fibre of her being when she said, 'I do'.

The strongest rush of his life when she gently handed him their baby daughter.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	12. Autumn

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! **

**Autumn**

Diana's laugh rang through the forest.

He frowned. "What?"

"You've-" she had to stop to giggle a little bit more, "You've still got a leaf in your hair."

His narrowed eyes found Sephie, hiding behind and tree and, like her mother, quivering with laughter. Diana reached up and picked it gently out of his hair. It was a rust-red in colour, and Diana let it go to float down, joining the pile around his feet. They'd been having a leaf-fight for the past fifteen minutes, with Persephone winning every single game – mainly because she seemed to have more energy than both her parents put together.

Suddenly Sephie ducked out from behind the tree and threw another handful of leaves at her father. They hit him in the chest, leaving a slightly damp patch on his jacket. He sighed. "That's it, young lady! I'm going to have to think up a suitable punishment now."

The smirk told Sephie she wasn't really in trouble, but like all small children, there was the half-fear, half-exhilaration about what was going to happen now. She watched her dad with wide eyes as her parents decided her fate.

"Well..." Diana began. "Such a heinous crime deserves..."

"Tickling?"

Sephie gasped. Bruce and Diana grinned at each other. "Tickling."

Sephie ran. Bruce chased. Diana listened to the joyful squealing of her daughter and the laughter of her husband as she followed more sedately. At six months pregnant she wasn't as light on her feet as she used to be. Eventually Bruce emerged from the trees triumphant, holding his daughter upside down her by her ankles.

"Mommy! Mommy, help me!"

Diana laughed. "Don't think so, Sephie."

Bruce let her down anyway, taking her hand, and motioned for her to be quiet. He crouched down next to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Sephie, look." He pointed, and the little girl gasped. In a gap between the leaves was a deer grazing at the roots of a tree.

"It's so pretty!" she said quietly.

Her dad nodded. "Yes it is. But shy, though. You have to be very quiet."

"Can we get closer?"

Diana watched with a wry smile as she saw Bruce prepare to say no, but then be swayed by the big blue puppy dog eyes his daughter turned on him. They ended up creeping a little bit closer, until the deer caught sight of them and was gone in a flash.

"Awww," Persephone groaned in disappointment. "Will we see anymore, Daddy?"

"Maybe. Why don't you see if you can find any hoof-prints?"

Buoyed up by the prospect of a quest, Sephie ran off, leaving her parents alone. "She has you wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?" Diana asked, laughter in her voice.

He kissed her softly. "Like mother like daughter."

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	13. Death

**A/N: I'm afraid this drabble heralds the return of the angst! There's another couple sad ones after this before we go back to the fluff. Thank you to everyone for their reviews, I'll reply when I can, I promise :) **

**Death**

Death, to an immortal, is not like death to any other.

At least not when you reach this age.

Diana has seen the world grow old. She has seen empires rise and fall, heroes be elevated to the status of gods, been the champion of Amazons and men. She has loved. And now she has lost.

She lays a single red rose on the polished oak, runs her fingers along the inscription of his name, then steps back, puts one hand in Terry's and one hand in Tim's. The coffin begins to lower.

He wanted to die, in the end. He'd never said it, because saying 'I'm tired' or 'I want to rest' would mean leaving her. And he didn't want to do that. It was in his eyes; a weariness that had never been there the sixty years she'd known him.

And now she's here, laying her husband of fifty five years to rest. They never had children. The gods formed her perfectly on the outside — not so much in. Terry is her son too; at least he's formed from her DNA. She glances at him, but that's all she can manage now, a glance. He looks too much like his father for anything more.

She stands in the rain until the grave is completely covered, and Bruce is finally at peace, next to his parents. Eventually even Tim and Terry drift away, and Diana is alone.

Death is coming for her, soon. She feels it, smells it like smoke in the air. Her death will not be like Bruce's. There will be no bed for her to pass away comfortably in. It will be explosive, quick, brutal. Fitting for an Amazon.

Then she will join her husband in eternity, and know peace.

Yes, it will be painful, but Diana is looking forward to death.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	14. Numbered

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Now be warned, this one is probably the saddest of the lot.**

**Numbered**

_Tick-tock._

His days are numbered.

_Tick-tock._

He might have two left, or he might have more than a hundred thousand.

_Tick-tock._

But they're limited. He doesn't have all the time in the world, and how much time is that anyway? Eventually, it doesn't matter how far away that day might be, he's going to die. And which would be worse? Dying tomorrow, in some vicious and bloody way? Or fifty years from now, after he's withered in the hands of time?

_Tick-tock._

No matter what happens, Diana will suffer his death. If she could share it, it wouldn't be so bad. If they could grow old together and rest in the peace of each others' arms in those final hours, it would be perfect. But she can't. Maybe they could be together, marry, have children, have _grandchildren_, but no matter what happens, Diana would be in limbo forever.

_Tick-tock._

He's not worried about her taking another lover after he's gone. If he was a more insecure man, if he didn't know Diana as well as he does, then maybe he'd be concerned. If he's learned anything from her, it's that once an Amazon gives something, it's forever. If that is her heart, then even after he's gone, he'll still have it.

_Tick-tock._

And it's that that scares him. Diana, living a half-life, for all eternity. She can mourn a friend, and still be alive. They all had to for the brief time Superman was dead. So he stays at arms' length. He watches her get a little colder toward him each day, because it's the only way to keep her safe.

_Tick-tock. _

Keep her safe. How foolish that was. Because it's not his number that's up.

_Tick-tock._

It's a lucky shot. Giganta, causing her normal devastation in Metropolis. She lashes out with one hand, and sends Diana flying backward into a building. That wouldn't be so bad. Except the building's already in splinters. The struts and girders exposed.

_Tick-tock. _

With a sickening, slick sort of slapping sound, Diana is impaled on one. It goes straight through her. She doesn't cry out in pain. Instead her head flops and she looks at the metal rod that's sticking out of her chest for a few seconds. Bruce hears his own voice screaming her name. Superman takes Giganta down, then flies over to Diana. Bruce gets there in time to hear Diana order Clark to pull the metal out of her.

_Tick-tock._

Superman's face is stricken. "Diana, I can't. The bleeding-"

_Tick-tock._

Her smile is terrifyingly weak. "Nothing...can stop that now...pull it out, Kal."

_Tick-tock._

He grits his teeth, and grasps the metal. Bruce kneels down and takes Diana's hand numbly. With pain-dulled eyes, she looks at him, and he wishes he could take off his cowl - but there are too many people.

_Tick-tock._

When Clark pulls, the scream that is ripped from Diana's lips will stay in Bruce's nightmares for the rest of his life. She chokes out two sobs, then presses her lips together firmly. When she breathes again, it's ragged and shallow. "Kal...thank you..."

_Tick-tock._

Bruce is counting the seconds now. She has no more than ten of them left. Numbers counting down. She looks at him, smiles. "Bruce..."

_Tick-tock._

She dies with his name on her lips.

_Tick-tock._

His days weren't numbered.

_Tick-tock._

Diana's were.

---

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews!**


	15. Introductions

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! **

**Introductions**

"_Only by obeying us, can we serve you._"

Alfred tutted in annoyance and made to switch the television off. Beastly Thanagarians. No doubt they'd tried to kill Master Bruce at some point since this occupation began. The Thanagarian with the strangely hypnotic eyes disappeared, replaced by the one who appeared to be in charge. His expression was harsh, his eyes pitiless.

"Attention, Earth citizens!" he announced. "Your so-called Justice League-" Alfred tensed, "-is in violation of our martial law."

The Englishman relaxed slightly. 'In violation' meant that they'd escaped captivity. Commander Hro Talek continued. "They are considered an enemy, and are to be dealt with on sight."

Ah. So the Thanagarians had no idea where they were. Excellent. And if he knew Master Wayne, then his solution to that would be to shed their costumes, then head for safety. Which meant here. Most likely with the rest of the Justice League.

_Then I had best make a start on dinner. _

Sure enough, less than three or four hours later — perfect timing, since dinner and all the trimmings was just about ready — the doorbell rang. Alfred straightened his bow-tie and made his way smoothly to the door. "Forget your key, sir?" he enquired.

Bruce sent a glower his way. "Something like that." He moved inside, letting the person behind him step into the light spilling out from the hallway. Alfred's breath caught in his throat.

He'd seen Wonder Woman on the television before of course, but the pictures certainly had not done her justice. In the flesh she radiated a kind of glowing vitality that simply did not get picked up on a television. The manor immediately became a brighter place as soon as she crossed the threshold.

"Diana, this is Alfred," Bruce introduced.

Wonder Woman smiled and offered her hand. "It's wonderful to meet you, Alfred."

He shook her hand with a small bow. "The honour is mine, Your Highness."

Her smile widened. "Just Diana, please."

"Very well, Miss Diana." He turned to Bruce. "I take it the others will be arriving soon, sir?"

"Over the next hour or so yes."

"Very good. Dinner is ready whenever you wish me to serve it."

He distinctly heard his charge's stomach rumble, and knew that Bruce was going to decline food no matter how famished he was. Thankfully, Diana interrupted. "Um, is there somewhere I could...freshen up?"

Alfred watched Bruce's eyes flick guiltily to her face, and knew that both of them had been ignoring their bodily functions for a while. They must have had a large portion of the Thanagarian armada on their trail. "Of course, miss. Down the hallway to your left, sixth door on the right."

She nodded in thanks and headed in the indicated direction. Alfred turned his attention back the the master of Wayne Manor. "Dinner, sir?"

Bruce did not look away from Diana's retreating form. "Just have it in the Cave," he muttered absently.

"With respect, sir, no you will not."

A dark eyebrow was raised. "We won't?"

Now that was telling. _We_ won't. Could it be that there was something more than a simple working relationship going on? If there was then it seemed unlikely Master Bruce was aware of it, but Alfred hoped so. He'd known the princess all of two minutes and already he could see she would be good for it his charge.

"No, Master Bruce. I will serve it in the dining room, and you and Miss Diana will enjoy far better there, I am sure."

Bruce frowned. "And why not in the Cave?"

It was Alfred's turn to cock an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I serve dinner to royalty in the Batcave, sir?"

There was a silence, which Alfred took to mean 'good point'. He turned and walked back toward the kitchen. "Besides, Master Bruce, serving dinner in the Batcave would almost guarantee that Miss Diana would not be joining us for dinner again."

"Who says she'll be coming here again after this?" Bruce questioned after him.

Alfred said nothing, and only smiled. Princess Diana would be coming back to the manor.

He'd make sure of it.

_---_

**A/N: Review please!**


	16. Brave

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews!**

**Brave**

Diana had never thought of her colleagues in the Justice League as being brave.

Mainly because she'd never seen them afraid. And without fear, there could be no courage.

With Clark, his lack of fear was perfectly understandable – the man was indestructible, Kryptonite aside.

J'onn was so calm, but she knew he, more than any of them perhaps, was a being of intense emotion. But he did not get scared. Not even with the Imperium draining him of every particle of strength had she seen him afraid. She suspected it was because he had so little to lose.

Wally was too busy making jokes to be frightened – he was normally scornful of the things they faced, making sarcastic remarks about their enemies.

Shayera got angry.

John's work in the Marines and the Green Lantern corps meant he saw saving the world as duty, no room for emotion on missions.

As for Bruce...frankly she found what Bruce did slightly crazy. The man had no powers, no special abilities and yet somehow he never showed the slightest bit of fear.

No, Diana had never found any of her colleagues brave, but Batman...at first _she _had felt fear, for his life. Until she saw how he worked. And the fear disappeared, simply because she forgot that he was only human.

It was not until she saw how scared Clark was of crushing everything he touched that she realised he was brave.

When she noticed that J'onn was afraid he had no ties to humanity, yet chose to become a part of it, she realised he was brave.

Wally's smile fell as soon as he turned away, as soon as he didn't think anyone was looking. It was a front to cover his fear that he wouldn't be good enough, that maybe speed was all he had. It took bravery to do that.

After the Thanagarian invasion, Diana had been furious with Shayera, hadn't seen how she could ever forgive her. But she recognised that to turn her back on her own people, to leave the League, took courage.

She saw how much it cost John to carry on every day after Shayera's departure like his heart wasn't breaking with every step he took.

But she still couldn't find bravery in Bruce. Or, more accurately, she couldn't find fear. Years passed, and still she found nothing. Until she was waiting in the Cave one day for him to return from patrol with Robin. When he did, Tim was injured. Unconscious from a blow to the head, but no more seriously hurt than that.

"What happened?" she asked, readying some antiseptic wipes and bandages for the cuts and bruises that covered both of them.

Bruce's voice was tight. "Harley hit him. Think they were trying to kidnap Tim."

For what purpose, Diana could only guess, and suddenly her mind was crowded with horrifying images. She knew the same gamut of torture was flashing through Bruce's mind, and clasped his shoulder briefly. "They didn't," was all she could say. _And thank Hera for it. _

Bruce didn't say anything, and his gaze had yet to leave Tim's face. Diana didn't think he'd even blinked. She set about cleaning and dressing the minor wounds on both of them. The fear in Bruce's eyes didn't dissipate until Tim woke.

And she understood. Bruce's courage didn't come from him risking his life every night. It came from not being alone. It came from being brave enough to realise that Tim, and Dick before him, were capable of helping him. Bruce's courage came from being able to trust the few people he did. She did not dare think about what would happen if it failed.

Diana now knew where her teammates' bravery came from.

She wondered where hers did.

---

**A/N: I know in canon they do kidnap Tim, but I couldn't do it again! Review please!**


	17. Aim

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for the reviews!**

**Aim**

"_Mitera_! _Mitera_, look!"

Diana's heart swelled with joy when she saw the look of pride on her mother's face. "Well done, my little sun and stars!"

Diana cast another gleeful look at the target, specifically at the arrow embedded within it. Not in the centre, but she'd hit it. At five years old, no one could deny that that level of accuracy with a bow was excellent. Even more so when one considered the fact that she had only begun training in archery two hours ago.

"You will be a fine warrior one day, Diana," Hippolyta said, lifting her daughter onto her lap.

Diana's face was aghast. "You mean I'm _not _yet?"

The queen laughed. "Not yet, my daughter. A few more arrows like that though, and you will be."

---

The spear flew as true as she could have hoped – into the neck of the boar. Its squeal of pain and rage echoed through the forest, and it carried on running for a few paces before it fell to the ground, twitching.

Diana slowed Achilles and dismounted, unsheathing her sword. Bending, she quickly slit the throat of the animal to help its passage. She uttered a quick prayer of thanks to Artemis before picking up the wild boar with one hand and throwing it over the back of her horse.

Her mother would be pleased - this particular boar had been destroying crops for the last several weeks, and no one had been able to successfully hunt it. Added to which, the boar would probably taste pretty good. Trusting her horse would follow her, she turned and made her way from the forest and back to the palace. She felt rather proud of herself. There were not many Amazons who could have hit a running target on a galloping horse through a forest. A far cry from her first attempt at archery. Her skill with a spear could not be doubted though – that she had never had a problem with.

Her aim had definitely improved since then.

---

Hippolyta should have known to expect it. When Diana expressed a wish to help mankind, the queen tried to clamp down on it, to make her daughter see that Themyscira was the only important thing.

Diana knew only one thing: she was hunting. Her mind focused, her vision narrowing to only one goal – to don the armour of Athena, and to go to Man's World. To leave Themyscira. Once the tiara was settled in her black hair, Diana took to the skies, pointing in the direction of danger.

When she saw a fellow sister in danger – a strange, winged sister, but a sister nevertheless – she knew only to stop the lasers with her bracers.

---

Others, her new friends and family, noticed this talent. Whatever Diana's goal, she did not stop until she achieved it, no matter what it was.

---

She needed to stop that missile. If she didn't then thousands of innocent people could die. Not human people, but undeniably people. High above Gorilla City, she flew in front of the huge projectile and pushed against it, succeeded in breaking it in half and, ultimately, by being buried underneath it. But she stopped it.

---

There was no way in Tartarus she was letting Audrey marry that monster – so she did what she had to. Knowing her friend would probably take a long time to forgive her, Diana took aim and ruined the young Kasnian queen's wedding by throwing a tank through the wall.

---

"I should leave you to burn." Truthfully, there was nothing Diana wanted more in that moment. Shayera Hol was a traitor to the League, to Earth, to John, and worst of all to the bond of sisterhood. But Diana's goal was to stop the Thanagarians from destroying the planet. And however overwhelming the desire of see Shayera's head on a pike was, her mission came first. So she chose to win by helping a traitor.

---

Not fighting the Annihilator went against everything Diana had ever been taught. If you were being attacked, you fought back. You did not ever retreat, and you did not ever surrender. You helped others who could not follow that code; you stood against those who would not. Her aim was to stop war – truthfully the only way she knew to do that was to fight and win. Which would be of absolutely no help in this situation. So by doing nothing at all, she went against what had been instilled in her from birth...and achieved what she'd set out to do.

---

She'd had a wonderful childhood. Beloved of her sisters and her mother, growing up in a literal paradise. But she had long since grown out of it. Now she was an adult, independent of Themyscira. Those days were a fond memory, but nothing more. The idea of returning to them was a little humiliating. However, Mordred needed to be stopped. So she agreed to be turned into a child in order to bring one down.

---

It was as she followed Bruce into his palace of a house and finally to safety from hawkpeople –noticing on the way his perfect butt (naturally, she was only human) – and remembering the way he kissed that she decided she wasn't prepared to never have him kiss her again. So when, a few weeks later, she had three excuses delivered to her, Diana only smirked.

Bruce really should have known better.

After all, Diana's aim was perfect.

**---**

**A/N: Review please!**


	18. Wild

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! **

**Wild**

Inside the holding cell, she watched with wary, suspicious eyes the strange creatures looking at _her_. The thoughts were scattered: _can't think, too bright, too much metal, hard glass, can't get out, danger, DANGER! Escape, run, flee, get out, get out! _

There was nothing that provided any comfort, nothing familiar or safe. She huddled into a corner and tried to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

"I don't know what else to suggest," Dr Fate said from outside. Next to him, Flash and Superman both folded their arms. They'd tried everything. Dr Fate could do nothing magically, and Superman –he could do nothing but stand and worry. J'onn was off-world, though he'd been made aware of the situation and returning to Earth as soon as possible.

"So what?" Flash asked. "We just have to wait it out, see if it wears off?"

"It's really all we can do," Dr Fate said. "I am distressed about seeing her like this too, but..."

The microphone from inside the room picked up a terrified whimper from inside as Diana curled herself into a tighter ball. Earlier today, she'd fallen into a trap laid by Grodd – and was now essentially a wild animal, out of her mind with fear. It had taken the combined efforts of both Superman and Green Lantern to contain her. Terrified and super-strong. Not a good combination. They hadn't even been able to get close enough in order to sedate her.

Superman spoke. "Have you been able to get in touch with-"

The doors hissed open behind him, admitting Batman. "How is she?"

"The same," Dr Fate said. "I assume Green Lantern briefed you on the situation?"

"Yes. Dr Fate, excuse us."

Summarily dismissed, the golden-masked man nodded and left the room. "Open the holding cell," Batman ordered.

Superman's mouth dropped open. "Bruce, she'll tear you to pieces! She almost did _me_!"

"I'm not you. Open it."

Flash and Clark shrugged at each other, but the Speedster did as requested, and opened the holding cell. At the door going up, Diana was instantly on her feet, bolting for her only prospect of escape. Bruce was ready, and he already had a smoke bomb in his hand. Unable to see, Diana skidded to a halt while he slipped inside.

He spoke in clipped tones. "Close the door. Activate the air conditioning."

They did so, and within seconds the smoke was clear, and Diana could see she was no longer alone. She crouched immediately, coiled to defend herself against this new attacker. Moving slowly, Bruce only sat cross-legged on the floor about ten feet from her, pushing back his cowl as he did so.

Diana did not relax; instead she lunged forward. Superman went immediately for the door, only to be stopped by Batman's order. "No. She won't attack."

Sure enough, she didn't. After lunging, she drew back, and did it again. Again Batman didn't move. She was trying to intimidate him. Now she knew he couldn't be intimidated. She glared; he stared impassively back.

For the next half an hour, Bruce stayed absolutely still while Diana became less aggressive and more timid again. They seemed to be no further forward, but he knew better. Eventually she grew tired of this intrusion into her territory, and began pushing boundaries again. Bruce was seated in the centre of the room, and she paced around him in ever decreasing circles until she reached out to touch him.

It was a quick poke to his chest, then a retreat again. He still didn't move, and within a few moments she was sat in front of him, running her hands over him, exploring him with curiosity. He let her. Her fingertips traced over shoulders, down arms, across hands and along fingers. Then his face; eyes, nose, jaw, lips. She lingered for quite a while on his lips, and he watched her eyes focus intently on his mouth, turning more intensely blue.

She did not look away from his lips as her hands moved down his body – chest, abdominals- "Diana," he warned when her hands slipped lower. She did not draw her hands away, but her eyes left his lips. She smiled – in a very predatory manner.

"Uh-oh," Clark muttered from outside. Well, at least she wasn't terrified anymore.

Bruce lifted her hands away with another glare. The smile on Diana's face flickered. And she put them back. Only this time she stroked a little. Bruce forced himself not to draw in a sharp breath, far too aware of Clark and Flash still watching. He moved them again. A low rumble issued from her throat. Suddenly Bruce found himself conscious of the fact that she was so much stronger than him. He considered all the moral implications of this situation. Would it count as rape?

"Bruce, I'm coming in."

"Don't. I can handle it."

"This is handling it?!"

Diana ended the discussion by literally climbing into his lap, pressing her lips to his hard, and ripping the top part of his suit in two. Fortunately – or not – Superman opened the door.

In an instant, Diana was on her feet, shoving Bruce behind her and glaring at the Kryptonian. "Kent, get out of here! She's defending her territory. She'll kill if you don't leave."

"You do realise what she'll do to you, don't you?"

Bruce moved forward, stepping in front of Diana and blocking any attack she might have made.

Flash's voice cut in. "Hey, J'onn's just arrived. He's on his way down now."

Clark relaxed slightly and backed out again. Diana watched him with narrowed eyes until he was safely behind the window again. She turned back to Bruce almost angrily, but this time her actions weren't so aggressive – he'd changed things by putting himself in front of her. He'd gone from territory to part of whatever pack Diana thought she was in.

Now, when she got close, her movements were gentle – but no less obvious. He was still expected to mate with her, if the way her tongue was exploring his throat was anything to go by, but apparently now it was his choice.

Over her shoulder, he saw J'onn's shape join that of Superman and Flash. The Martain's voice came into his mind. _Batman, I'm having trouble connecting to Diana from out here. Closer proximity may help. Do you think you can control her? _

_I don't think anything can control her at this point, but I think my presence will help calm her. _

_Very well. I'm coming in. _

_Don't-_

Too late – J'onn's form had already phased through the walls. Diana stiffened with fear, apparently too scared to attack the way she had Clark. Instead she leapt over Bruce's shoulder to cower behind him.

"Damn it, J'onn!" he muttered under his breath.

"She's frightened," J'onn summed up calmly.

Bruce fought the urge to snarl, _well yeah_, at him, and turned to Diana. Her terrified blue eyes found his, and he stroked her hair softly. "It's alright, Princess," he said quietly. "It's alright."

She reached out to him, and he pulled her close enough to feel that her whole body was shivering.

_I'll begin now. _

_Might be a good idea_, he growled back.

J'onn put a hand on top of the princess's head.

In Bruce's arms, Diana whimpered and pulled herself closer. J'onn's eyes glowed as he delved into Diana's mind to find where the intelligent bit of her had been secreted away. Gradually, under Bruce's hand still rhythmically stroking her hair and J'onn's calming interference, Diana relaxed, though she maintained the closeness. Finally she went completely limp, and J'onn withdrew.

"She should be regaining consciousness momentarily."

Bruce nodded curtly, but J'onn was right – she was already stirring. Finding herself face to...chest, her head snapped up to find Bruce's expression concerned. "Princess? Are you back?"

"Um...where did I go, exactly?" she asked.

In clipped tones, he explained what had happened. Skipping out the forcible almost-sex part. "Hera, is Superman okay?" she asked after he'd finished. "John? I didn't seriously hurt anyone did I?"

"No, don't worry. No damage was done."

"Good." There was a pause. "Bruce?"

"Princess?"

"...why are you still stroking my hair?"

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	19. Languid

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! **

**Languid**

A good warrior is never lazy. A good warrior is always alert. A good warrior never stops.

As far as Diana could see, no good warrior had ever lain in Bruce Wayne's bed until one on a Sunday afternoon.

So if that meant she was not a good warrior, then so be it. She was content with Egyptian cotton sheets, a slight breeze blowing in from the open window, and her lover's body wrapped around hers.

"Mmm..." She stretched languidly, then curled up again, sliding one leg up his and stroking idly down his chest.

The slight movement of his fingers tracing along her spine told her he was awake too – just not ready to be yet.

"It's past one you know," she whispered.

Pulling her closer was his only reply.

"And it's a beautiful day. Shame to waste it."

A grunt.

"I think there'll be a thunderstorm later. There is the scent of rain in the air."

Another grunt - something that could have been a word, but definitely meant 'I don't give a shit what the weather's doing'.

"I was thinking you might want to go for a ride later." Her hand slid down further as she lowered her voice. "Whichever kind of ride you prefer."

That got a raised eyebrow.

This what what Diana loved about Sundays. They both knew what would happen - they'd make love, then relax, kissing and talking about nothing in particular, then stay there till at least three.

The outside world didn't matter, the League did not exist. Sundays were the one day even Gotham took a backseat to them. Some days they didn't leave the house, and just sat on the couch – wrapped in each other like characters in a Mills and Boon Diana was never admit to reading, but being totally languid with Bruce...maybe Mills and Boon had a point.

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	20. Loyalty

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This one is angsty, be warned. **

**Loyalty**

Nobody questioned that Batman's loyalty was to Gotham first. No one. If saving Gotham meant saving the world too, then so be it. But if his city was in danger, then nothing could make him leave it. Likewise the Batclan. They always came first. Even though he and Dick didn't really talk that much anymore, it was clear to everyone who knew either of them that Bruce would do anything to help if Dick was in trouble. The same applied for Nightwing.

That wasn't to say that Bruce didn't have loyalty to others as well. Maybe in the beginning, he wasn't all that committed to the Justice League, viewed its members as colleagues rather than friends, but over time, that changed. Superman was a friend before – though trying to get Batman to admit that...it would have been more productive trying to squeeze blood from a stone.

After the Batclan, there came the trinity. Clark and Diana. The best friend and the...

There never was a right word to put to that. The lover? The friend? The team-mate? Only Batman could answer that, and no matter how many times Diana had tried, he refused to give her one. She thought, once or twice, that perhaps she was as important to him as Dick, or Tim.

Her mistake became clear when Tim disappeared. When Tim was rescued. When Bruce's loyalties became apparent. She could not blame him. If she had been in his position then she would have done the same thing. But she did not watch without sadness.

He abandoned the League. He broke the trinity. He pulled away from her. And Diana learned where her own loyalties lay. Because when Kal said, "we need to talk to him", Diana said no. He needed to do this.

So Batman continued to protect Gotham.

And Diana protected him.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	21. Tomorrow

**A/N: I'M FREEEEEEEEEEE! I've officially finished university. Eeeeeeeeeek! Oh, and thank you for the reviews hee hee! **

**Tomorrow**

"So...nervous?" Clark asked, his tone far too light.

Bruce didn't have to think about his answer. "No."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Huh."

The surprise in his answer was irritating. "Why do you sound so shocked?"

"It's a big deal, you have to admit," his friend pointed out.

Bruce disagreed. "Not really. We already live together."

"Yeah, but come tomorrow evening-"

"Nothing except her name will have changed." A brief, genuine smile crossed his face. "I love her, you know."

Clark chuckled. "Well yeah, that much has been obvious for years now."

"Obvious? How?"

"I realised when you suddenly stopped flirting with her. You only flirt with women you don't care about."

"...huh. You know me better than I thought you did."

A sly smile crossed Superman's face. "Finding the truth is my job you know."

"True."

A knock on the door. "Uh, bride needs to see the groom."

Clark blinked at Shayera. "She can't. It's bad luck."

"It's worse luck if her cold feet get the better of her," she pointed out. She held out a strip of black material. "I brought a blindfold; you won't see her, but seriously, you gotta talk her down. Audrey's trying and failing now."

"Audrey?" That got Bruce out of his chair and toward the door in about the same time Flash could have managed. A few minutes later (after Shayera had caught him and tied the blindfold forcibly around his head), he pushed on the door.

"Princess?"

Audrey's accented voice greeted him. "She's in the bathroom, darling, and she hasn't come out in the last ten minutes."

"Could you give us a few minutes?" he asked.

"Of course."

He heard her exit the room, and he took the blindfold off once the door was shut. He didn't believe in luck. Crossing to the bathroom door, he took comfort in the fact that at least he gn couldn't hear crying. He knocked softly. "Diana?"

"Bruce?"

"It's me. Come out, Audrey's gone."

"But it's bad luck the night before-"

"Princess, just come out."

There was a pause, and then the door unlocked. Diana's face was free from the traces of tears, but she was biting her bottom lip nervously. "I only went in there to get away from the others. Needed some time to think."

He pushed down his trepidation and took her hand, pulling her over to sit on the couch. "What conclusion did you arrive at?"

She looked down. "That...I've changed my mind."

He let go of her hand. "About marrying me?" he asked, voice tight.

When she turned his face to hers, her smile was tender, her kiss just as so. "Never about that. I meant...about the whole big wedding thing."

He blinked. He'd have been quite happy with a small family-only wedding — it had been Diana who insisted she wanted to do things properly 'according to Man's World tradition'. He'd gone along with it because it was what she wanted.

Diana sighed and looked away. "I suppose it's too late to cancel now though. It's tomorrow after all."

"No it isn't," he corrected gently. "It's what best men and maids of honour are for, after all."

A smile lit up her face, and she took his face between her hands, kissed him breathless before pulling back. "Ok...so what do you want to do?"

---

Tomorrow came.

The church filled up with celebrities and heroes of the league. At eleven am, when it became apparent that neither the bride nor the groom was going to show, the best man received a phone call. A few moments later, he stood sheepishly in front of the assembled guests.

"Uh, ladies and gentlemen...I've been told to inform you that the reception will still take place at the manor as planned, but that neither Mr or – as of midnight last night – Mrs Wayne will be there. They, uh, they've decided to elope, and are currently honeymooning in the Maldives."

---

**A/N: Did I mention I was free? :P Review please!**


	22. Burn

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and the congratulations!**

**Burn**

It was a shock, when he touched her for the first time.

A real touch, not a quick squeeze of a Kevlar-clad shoulder after a battle or fixing up a wound with fingers covered with the skin of leather.

No, this was a real touch, of skin to skin. Perhaps appropriate, given what was to come in their relationship. A kiss, given in thanks for a futile effort. He blushed, for what was the first time in many years. But it wasn't until they were climbing back into the Javelin for the flight back to the Watchtower that he realised his cheek was still tingling. No, not tingling. Burning.

He brought his hand up to his jaw unconsciously. Was he that unaccustomed to being touched? At least in the batsuit... He glanced over at Diana. Her face was calm, her focus piloting the Javelin into the landing bay. Once they were down, she caught his look, returned it with a smile.

He didn't echo it. Apparently expecting that, Diana only slipped past him and out of the jet.

---

"May I have this dance?"

He was certain she'd pick up on the laughter in his voice, but she only seemed relieved to have an escape. "Yes!"

She put her hand in his, and he experienced a jolt again. Her touch set his fingers burning — in a very pleasant way. Her hand wasn't smooth; it was rough, calloused. From endless swordplay, he assumed, constant fighting. Now he had no idea why he'd expected her to have smooth hands. Something about her being a princess maybe.

He pulled her into his arms then, and the warmth spread throughout his hand, right up his arm. It did not warm him as much as her smile did when she said, "I appreciate the rescue."

Their dance was rudely interrupted by some Kasnian separatists, and he watched her dispatch them with ease, with a hand that was still burning from the feel of her skin. When, in another country and two days later, she turned to him and told him — more or less — that she knew exactly who he was and took his arm, his skin burned through the barrier of Kevlar.

---

Every cell was humming with urgency. "We can't stay here," he told the restaurant owner. "If they find you helping us-"

They were sat down anyway, and Bruce took a moment to marvel at the bravery that ordinary people could display in times of crisis. They sat down, the door banged open- And Diana didn't hesitate.

She slid a hand around to the back on his neck, pulled him forward and planted her lips firmly on his. He froze for half a second. She ran her tongue over his lips, then tugged gently on his bottom lip in silent plea. He could hear her voice. _Come on, Bruce. Work with me here. _

Before he realised, his hands were sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips opened, his eyes closed. The best way to convince the Thanagarians they were really kissing was to...well, really kiss. Of course with Diana in his arms, actually kissing her was not all that difficult a task.

Unsurprisingly, Diana drew back first. She looked embarrassed, he realised with a smirk. "Sorry," she said, twisting her mouth.

He almost grinned, and it wasn't hard to inject a lustful tone into his voice. "Don't be."

They left the restaurant soon after that.

His mouth didn't stop burning for hours.

---

It was at least another two years before they touched again. And when it did happen, the burn wasn't just in the localised part of him that she'd touched. Mainly because she was touching most of him.

Darkseid was gone, the whole planet was celebrating. Gotham was celebrating. And while the law-abiding citizens were having fun without breaking the law, inevitably there were those who thought even Batman might be looking the other way. They were wrong, but one of them got lucky. When Bruce got back to the Cave at five am, he was sporting a gash on his upper arm, and another knife wound on his shoulder blade. Diana was waiting for him.

"Princess. What are you doing here?"

"I had nowhere else I wanted to be," she said honestly. "How was patrol?"

"Bit worse than usual," he said flatly.

"You're injured," she noted, looking at the rips in his suit. "Sit down, I'll get a first aid kit."

He acquiesced, since if Alfred had let her down here then the Englishman was most likely in bed, and he didn't want to disturb him. And he couldn't reach the injury on his back. While Diana was gone, he took the top part of his suit off and waited.

Diana had a very bad poker face, and when she came back she couldn't hide the flash of lust that crossed her face. Still biting her bottom lip slightly, she opened the green box and set to work. "This will sting," she said quietly.

What she was doing got a reaction, but when he stiffened and drew in a breath, it wasn't because the antiseptic hurt. It was because fire spread out from her fingertips. Dear God how could he have forgotten this?

Finished with the cut on his back, she moved around him to his upper arm, dressing that wound as well. Then she ran her fingers over his bicep, up his shoulder toward his neck-

"Diana."

His voice did not carry the warning he'd meant it to. Instead it sounded like an invitation. When she looked at him and said his name in the same tone, everything changed.

That night, Bruce burned.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	23. Laughter

**A/N: I have insomnia. Oh joy... Thank you for the reviews, people. **

**Laughter**

"Bad day?"

Diana picked the shards of her empty coffee mug off the table. "How can you tell?" she asked with a rueful smile.

"There's no more coffee."

"Yeah," she said. "I noticed. Who do I have to blame for that exactly?"

"Booster Gold."

She inhaled slowly through her nose and forced her shoulders to relax. "Would beating the crap out of him be an overreaction?"

"Possibly," he replied dryly. "There's more in the civilian lounge I think."

"Right. You think they'll mind Wonder Woman stealing it?"

"Not if you ask nicely."

"Right, I'll be back in a minute." She marched purposefully out of the coffee room.

He double-checked. They had milk, ice and hot chocolate, but no coffee. She could have an iced hot chocolate, but not a mocha. And he'd seen Diana when she was mocha-less. It wasn't a pretty picture.

A few moments later, Diana came back in, looking much happier with a bag of coffee beans in her hand. She put them in the grinder with a sigh, and watched until they'd been reduced to a fine powder. She mixed in the other ingredients the poured them into the blender. Once that was done, she opened the cupboard. The bare, empty cupboard. Devoid of mugs.

"Oh for Hera's sake!"

"Mugs in the civilian lounge too," he pointed out helpfully, quite enjoying himself at this point.

She glared and left again. A few moments later the door opened again – and admitted Flash. Carrying two empty mugs. "Hey, Bats."

Knowing he really should stop him, and really not wanting to, Bruce watched as Wally filled the two mugs with the iced mocha Diana had just painstakingly prepared. Emptying the blender in the process.

Oh this was going to be good. A laugh began to bubble up, and his smirk grew. Flash took his mochas, then dashed toward the door. Just as Diana came back through with her mug. The two crashed into each other, iced mocha splashing in every direction. Bruce bit his bottom lip to keep from chuckling at the expression on the princess's face. She was still for about three seconds. Then her fists curled. Her eyes narrowed. And all her muscles tensed.

Her voice was trebling with suppressed rage when she spoke. "Wally. Tell me you did _not _take my iced mochas."

"Um...I didn't take your iced mochas."

Bruce let out a tiny snort.

Diana threw her mug at the floor. "Yes you did! Damn it, Flash!"

"You know what, I'm just gonna go." With a blur, Flash was gone.

Diana was after him in seconds. "Wally, get the Hades back here!"

Left alone in the coffee room, Bruce gave in, and burst out laughing.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	24. Scar

**A/N: Sorry about the wait guys, here's the next chapter, and thank you for the reviews!**

**Scar**

"What are you doing?"

His voice was always sexy, but Diana loved it in the mornings. When it was sleepy and comfortable. She grinned, kissed his jaw.

"Trying to decide which is my favourite," she replied, fingers going on the move again.

Her fingers stopped at one gone white with age, faded and barely visible. "This one looks old," she noted.

"It is. Six weeks into being Batman. Knife wound – shallow, fortunately. Still hurt though."

She traced along the long thin line just below his left pectoral, before moving down to settle on a circular scar on his right oblique. "This looks like a bullet wound."

"It was. A year in. First time I met the Joker."

She nodded, circled the faintly pink smooth mark before moving onto his hand. Around his thumb there were a dozen pink marks. A bite. "What kind of dog was it?" she asked. "It must have been big, judging by the diameter of the teeth."

The corner of his mouth curled upward. "Wasn't a dog. Hyena."

"Ah. Harley."

"Harley."

Diana picked up his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed the scar. He groaned when she gave his thumb a tiny suck before letting him return it to her back. Her fingers trailed up his arm to his bicep, pausing. This scar was new — lividly purple, it wrapped around his whole arm. "Remind me?" she asked. "It looks like barbed wire."

"Almost. Poison Ivy. Some kind of vine with teeth. It decided it liked the way I tasted." He looked down at her, smiled and luxuriated in the way her hair covered both of them in a silky black curtain. "Decided on your favourite yet?"

He'd never been self-conscious, but didn't understand the fascination she had with his scars. When he asked, she said they were, 'proof I made the right choice'. His scars, she told him, were the testament to the fact he was a warrior. A hero. Worthy of her as both Princess and Amazon.

In answer to his question, Diana grinned. "This one," she said, kissing the mouth-shaped mark at the base of his neck.

He laughed. "Well that one is new."

She nodded. "Mmm. I rather like the way you taste too."

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	25. Beautiful

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews!**

**Beautiful**

All her life, Diana was taught that beauty came from within. A warrior did not need to be beautiful. A warrior needed to be brave, to show no pain, to keep fighting, to never admit defeat and to celebrate victory with grace.

She knew full-well that she was blessed with the attributes of her goddesses. She had the wisdom of Athena, the strength of Gaea. And the beauty of Aphrodite. But beauty meant nothing in a country where there were no mirrors.

Diana thought of herself as any other Amazon — dedicated to the well-being of Themyscira, to serve the gods and live her life purely. If that meant she was beautiful, then so be it. But beauty was a consequence of the Amazon way of life, not a goal.

Time passed, she moved on from her homeland. She met new friends, found new enemies to combat. Learnt that beauty, like everything else, was not black and white. She still fought for justice, she still believed absolutely in truth, but in other things, the code that had defined her childhood did not work in the grey area that was Man's World. She no longer knew if she was beautiful. What if the violence she surrounded herself with had warped her? She was called beautiful by the press, but she knew that was superficial. She didn't feel beautiful.

But years after she came to Man's World, she was told otherwise. In a low, barely audible voice, as she lay half-conscious in the infirmary. Her fight with Mongol had affected her more badly than originally they'd thought — though obviously battered and bruised on the outside, there was also massive internal bleeding and several broken bones. With the treatment she received in the med-bay, it would not take her long to heal.

Still, she knew it worried Bruce and Clark how badly she'd...well, gotten her ass handed to her. They both stayed with her while the morphine helped her drift on a cloud of euphoria. She was vaguely aware of Clark speaking.

"How does she..."

He didn't continue, but Bruce finished the sentence.

"Get the crap kicked out of her and still be the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?" he asked, forcing the levity into his tone.

Clark agreed, but left soon after that, called away to Metropolis. Bruce stayed with her through the entire day, leaving on when darkness fell on Gotham. Diana registered he was there each time she surfaced, and his presence was more of a balm than the morphine.

Just before he left, he leaned forward, pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You really are beautiful, you know, Princess."

He was gone into the shadows in a second.

But Diana had heard him.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	26. Office

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This one is my personal favourite out of the 50, and I hope you enjoy it :) **

**Office**

"So let me get this straight... We're investigating...you?"

"Yes."

He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Diana pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed to Athena for patience. "Because...?"

"Because someone in my company is embezzling huge amounts of money from government contracts; I need to know it's not me."

"Bruce, you know it's not you," she pointed out.

"The public doesn't, and nor does the rest of the League," he replied. "Are you coming or not?"

Diana suppressed an irritated sigh and followed him to the transporters. Standing on the platform waiting for J'onn to teleport them to Wayne Enterprises, Diana turned to him. "You know, I don't think I'll ever understand men."

A flash of light, and they were stood in the darkened office of Bruce Wayne, CEO. "It's women who are considered the complicated ones, Princess," he said lowly.

She snorted. "No woman has anything on you, believe me."

He smirked, and pulled out a flashlight, swinging its white beam around the room. Diana rolled her eyes and walked over to the light swtich, flicking it on. The room was illuminated. So was Batman's scowl.

"Anyone could see us."

"Isn't that the point? To prove that even one of the richest men in America isn't above suspicion for Batman?"

She took his silence as a yes.

"So now what?" she asked. "I assume you don't actually need to search your own computer."

"No. We'll go back to the Watchtower soon, once enough time has elapsed."

Diana nodded, then looked around the office. It really was huge; at least as big as her whole apartment; an enormous oak desk; armchairs in one corner arranged around a plasma screen TV (for conference calls, she assumed); the huge leather chair behind the desk. The items on it were minimalist and tidily placed. Two walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, all of which were spotlessly clean. There were a few paintings and other pieces of artwork dotted around; all in keeping with the masculine, modern feel of the office.

Bruce moved to the light switch again, flicked it off, closed the blinds, then removed his cowl. When he turned back to her, it was with a predatory gaze. She fought the grin — the last three times he'd looked at her like that, she'd ended up gasping for breath, muscles trembling and boneless with the afterglow.

Well not tonight.

Tonight _he _would be the one unable to think in the wake of mind-numbing pleasure. Moving slowly, deliberately, she sat on the edge of his desk, crossing her legs and smirking when his eyes flicked down to her thighs. He loved her legs, and she knew it.

She tilted her head, shaking her hair slightly. "And just how much time is 'enough', Mr Wayne?" she purred.

She didn't see him move from the other side of the room, but the next second he was between her legs, pushing her knees apart and running suddenly gloveless hands up and down her skin.

"That's really up to you," he murmured hoarsely back, before his lips found the sweet-spot just under her left ear.

Diana tamped down on the moan, and initiated a counter-attack, running her mouth along his jaw line in a combination of teeth, lips and tongue while her hands found the fastenings of the suit. Wasting no time, she pulled it off until his torso was bared.

It wasn't until his hands cupped her breasts she realised her armour — the top half anyway — had been removed too.

Three and three quarter hours later, Batman and Wonder Woman reemerged on the Watchtower, looking like perfectly normal (if a little flushed) colleagues. J'onn's smirk was knowing when he asked them if they'd discovered anything.

Diana coloured slightly. Did her g-spot count?

Bruce's voice was monotone. "Nothing of any significance."

The two left the transporter room, heading to the commissary. At the doors, they stopped. "I have to go," Batman told her quietly. "Meetings all day tomorrow."

She nodded. "Alright."

"Are we still on for dinner tomorrow evening?"

Her smile was radiant. "Of course." Checking there was no one else around, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Bruce."

---

At nine forty nine am the next morning, Bruce saw his first meeting out of his office with a smile and a handshake. Having no idea what the hell the meeting had been about. In the client's chair he kept seeing Diana, with her head thrown back in ecstasy.

On the desk, he kept seeing Diana.

Against the door, he kept seeing Diana.

In his own chair, he felt Diana above him.

He pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Jessica?"

"_Yes, Mr Wayne?" _

"How many more meetings do I have today?"

"_Uh...seven, sir." _

He fought the urge to curse loudly. There was no way in hell he was going to get any work done in here.

"Right."

"_Is there a problem, Mr Wayne?" _

"No. Just call Fox, tell him we're swapping offices." He paused. "Indefinitely."

_---_

**A/N: Review please! Oh, and I've accepted requests from a few people as to the prompt word. I have 12 spaces left, so if there's a particular word you'd like me to have a go at, include it in your review and I'll see what I can do :D**


	27. Whale

**A/N: Thank you very much for all the reviews, and I'm happy so many people liked 26. This is 27, and all that came to mind when the prompt word was...**

**Whale**

"Why not?"

"You're a grown woman, Diana, you can read it yourself," he pointed out.

On the chair next to him, the princess huffed. "I can't read a book that starts in the perspective of a man. And anyway, I want you to read it to me."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I'm not in the habit of asking questions to which I already know the answers, Princess," Bruce said, not glancing from the screen in front of him.

"Bruce, don't make me say it."

The smirk he sent her way was positively gleeful. "Say what?"

"If I say it, will you read me the book?"

Silence. Her only answer was another smirk.

"Hera, you have to be most stubborn man in the world!"

"I prefer 'persistent'," he commented lightly, typing away.

"I swear, all my life I've never met anyone who infuriated me as much as you do!" she said, slamming the book down on the desk in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow.

"No, you know what, I know what you are!" she declared.

The second eyebrow joined the first as he wondered what he was going to be called next. "You're my white whale!" she said, poking the book for emphasis. "No matter how I try to- to-"

"Harpoon me?" he asked.

She ignored him. "I feel like I'm always hunting something I'm never going to get!"

"What's that?"

"Victory," she snapped. "And for a warrior that is a frustrating prospect!"

"Not true. You beat me at chess last night."

"I kept leaning forward to move my pieces, Bruce, your mind was hardly on the game," she said flatly.

Well he couldn't argue with that. Though _that _dress had a lot to do with it, and so did the two dozen oysters that Alfred had served just before dinner. "Maybe," he allowed, "but just because victory isn't assured doesn't mean you stop fighting."

The look she sent him was incredulous. "Are you _actually _trying to lecture an Amazon on warfare?"

The corner of his mouth curled up. "I guess not."

"You never did answer my first question," she said, narrowing her eyes to make it clear he had not wriggled out of it that easily. "If I say it, will you read it to me?"

"Yes."

"Ok..." She took a deep breath, looked around to make sure they were alone (though in Bruce's private quarters, it wasn't as though Wally would be hiding in a corner), before leaning forward. Her lips met his, though she didn't really kiss him. "You have a sexy voice," she whispered against his mouth, before retreating again.

Settling on the bed, she crossed her legs and made a very royal gesture. "You may begin," she told him imperiously.

He rolled his eyes before pushing back the cowl and picking up the book. "Page one. Call me Ishmael..."

---

**A/N: Review please, and don't forget if you want me to tackle a particular word, let me know in your review :)**


	28. Gold

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Here's the first of our duo of drabbles for today :)**

**Gold**

Her tiara was gold. Well, the star on it was red, but the actual metal itself was gold. Was it actually gold, or was it some kind of alloy? Why hadn't he asked before? Regardless, gold seemed like a good choice. Her breastplate was gold. So was her girdle. And her lasso. So gold it was.

But then there were her bracers to consider. They were silver. And they were in use most, after all. And they were closest to her hands. And maybe it would look better if it went with her bracers. Though no, that wasn't right – they couldn't be actual silver, since that was a fairly soft metal, and she deflected bullets with them all the time. But since it was all the time, he should go with silver, since it would match.

His hand extended to the right box. Then withdrew again.

It was the seventeenth time he'd done that, and even Alfred's patience had run out by this point. "Are you having trouble with your decision, Master Bruce?"

He nodded. "Gold or silver, Alfred?"

"I suspect it would make little difference to the princess, sir."

"True. But-"

"Or is it your original decision you are struggling with?"

"No!" Bruce burst out. "No," he repeated, more softly this time, and struggling not to show his discomfort at the small smirk on Alfred's face. He was thirty-eight years old, for God's sake, he refused to _blush_. "I'm not struggling with that," he murmured softly. "But...she wears both, Alfred. I always thought women weren't supposed to wear both, but she _does_, and damn it she makes it look good, and now there's no way I can-"

"-decide between gold and silver, Master Wayne, I see your conundrum."

Bruce became aware he was being mocked, but chose not to attempt a glare. Not at Alfred anyway. "Well which do you suggest?"

Alfred pursed his lips for a second, then picked up a small box covered in emerald-green velvet. He handed it to Bruce, who flicked it open. It looked great. Large rose-cut diamond in the centre with smaller sapphires surrounding it, but not too huge, and not too ostentatious. "It's perfect."

"Yes, Master Bruce. I believe that is what your father said...before he gave it to your mother."

Bruce blinked. That settled it. He looked at the band thoughtfully. "What metal is it?"

"Platinum, sir."

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	29. Lovers

**A/N: If you reviewed, then thank you! If you didn't...shame on you. Go back and do it! **

**Lovers**

Lov•er |'lever|

noun

a person having a sexual or romantic relationship with someone, often outside marriage.

a person who likes or enjoys something specified _: he was a great lover of cats _| _music lovers. _

Diana sighed as she shut the dictionary. Well, that hadn't helped at all. Neither definition seemed to fit she and Bruce. They certainly weren't engaged in a sexual relationship, and it wasn't what she'd call a 'romantic' relationship either. Romance seemed to indicate candlelit dinners and weekends away. The Indian restaurant during the Thanagarian invasion was the closest they'd ever been to having dinner, and she wasn't sure Paris counted as a break.

But...they were something.

But what?

They weren't lovers. They weren't _not _lovers.

They'd been on a mission, earlier this evening, when Bruce Wayne needed a distraction at a charity function. Well, Wonder Woman was a good one. Of course, Bruce hadn't been as swift as he normally was. When she'd walked into the room, she'd been a distraction alright. To him. She'd been quick enough, for once, to catch the flare of desire in his eyes.

She mingled, of course, kept everyone's attention and gave Bruce his chance to tail his suspect. She was certain that his eyes didn't leave her all night, and her skin burned all evening. At the end of the night, she decided enough was enough, and elicited him for a dance. He seemed surprised, but agreed. Time to test him.

She made sure to pick a rumba. Plenty of opportunities to drag her body teasingly across his. The fifth time she'd rubbed her thigh down his, the fact that his eyes had darkened to almost black couldn't be hidden. But he still wasn't saying anything – nothing verbal anyway, though his harsh, rapid breathing was saying quite a lot. Diana decided desperate times called for desperate measures. This time, it was her hips she pressed against his. Felt the arousal for herself.

Bruce drew in a sharp breath. "Diana-"

She met his gaze squarely. "Bruce," she replied coolly.

Feeling she'd made her point, once the music had finished, she'd merely turned away from him and left.

Still, never mind. Putting the dictionary back on the shelf, Diana left her quarters. She was due for monitor duty soon.

It passed quickly, and uneventfully. It would be four am EST by the time she finished. At three fifty seven am, the doors hissed open, and Diana found herself face to face with an apparently incensed Batman. Unusually for him, he got closer, putting a hand on either arm of her chair and pushing his cowl almost right up to her nose.

"What the _hell _did you think you were doing?" he hissed.

They were alone in the room, and thankfully the same coolness that she'd had earlier returned now. "Dancing."

"_That _wasn't dancing, Princess, that was-" He cut off. Diana assumed he wasn't willing to use the word 'seduction'.

"It's no different to what we normally do, Bruce," she said. "After all, we've been dancing around each other for years. I just decided that perhaps we should be dancing _with _each other." She made to stand up, and he had to get out of the way or get a faceful of breast.

He chose getting out of the way.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

She got to the doors before she was halted by his growled question. "Why now?"

"Why not now?" she shot back over her shoulder. "Face it, Bruce. It was going to happen sooner or later. I'm not a patient woman. You should be proud that you've gotten me to wait five years already." She turned to him with an eyebrow raised in challenge. "You coming?"

He said nothing, just stared at her. Diana refused to let her disappointment show on her face, and only turned around to go to her quarters. Once there, she stepped into the shower and let the hot water pummel away the stress in her shoulders.

The sound of the door opening made her heart leap in her chest, but she didn't let it show. Instead she met his gaze through the screen of the shower door. He'd taken his cowl off, showing the naked want she'd seen before. Diana smirked, pushed open the door and then turned around.

"Wash my back?"

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	30. Contradiction

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Right, the words that I'm planning on having a go at: Garden, Rescue, Isis and Beach. Thank you to AQ, IHeartTheBlackParade, warrior-within89 and for their suggestions. I have five places left if anyone would like to drop in :) **

**Contradiction**

It had often been said that women were contradictory in nature. That when a pissed-off woman was asked if there was anything wrong, 'no' meant 'yes'.

As far as Diana could see, no woman, no matter how contradictory, had anything on Batman. He called Superman a 'Boy Scout' when he meant, 'my best friend.'

He told Wally to 'grow up' when he meant, 'thank you for keeping us all younger'.

So she wasn't surprised when she had the most contradictory conversation in her life with him. Somehow, they managed to have two conversations within the same space of time.

"Don't you ever wish you were down there?"

"I'm down there all I need to be."

_If things were different, maybe... _

"Yes, but it's just a job to you," she pointed out. "I'm talking about going down there and having some fun. Maybe...maybe with someone special," she added hopefully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and eyeing him carefully.

Silence.

Diana smirked. "No, no dating for the Batman. It might cut into your brooding time."

He looked at her inscrutably. "One: dating within the team always leads to disaster."

_I don't want to hurt you, so I'm using John and Shayera as an excuse. I'm hoping you won't pick on Green Arrow and Black Canary as an example of a couple that work. _

"Two: you're a princess from a society of immortal warriors; I'm a rich kid with issues – lots of issues."

_I want you to be my princess, and I want you to know that you could overcome all of my issues if you pushed hard enough. _

"And three: if my enemies knew I had someone special, they wouldn't rest until they'd gotten to me – through her."

_I'd pay to see the Joker try and take you on. _

Diana crushed a gargoyle's head into powder. "Next?" she asked.

_How long do you want to keep playing, Bruce? I'm in it for the long game._

_---_

**A/N: Review please!**


	31. Pink

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews!**

**Pink**

Hell must have frozen over.

Because it had happened. Someone had invented a dress that Wonder Woman didn't look good in.

For Queen Audrey's second wedding, the young royal had decided that she was going to be the one to bring the eighties back. Including the meringue wedding gown. And the ridiculously puffy bridesmaid's dresses. And Diana, being maid of honour, had to have the puffiest gown of them all.

She was now at least six feet in diameter thanks to the huge skirt, she couldn't see past her sleeves, there was an enormous bow stretching across her entire back, and it was in the most vile shade of nauseating pink.

She felt ridiculous.

It was made worse by the fact that the man Audrey was marrying – a man named Vladimir Zaytsev – happened to be well acquainted through his business with one Bruce Wayne. She just knew he'd get that patented bat-smirk on his face whether he was in the suit or not. Well, if he made one disparaging comment, she'd make him pay for it the next time they sparred.

And then she'd burn this damned fuchsia dress.

The wedding had gone well; she'd done her job, Audrey was now happily married, she'd made her speech at the reception, and now she was hiding out on the darkened balcony, on her sixth glass of champagne and hoping that alcohol might give her the courage to walk through the hall again in order to remind Audrey that she had a honeymoon to depart for.

"It's no good hiding, Princess. In that shade of magenta they can probably see you from the Watchtower."

She turned and glared at Bruce, casually leaning against the doorway, looking every inch the picture of male gorgeousness. "Shut up, Bruce."

"So you're not hiding?"

"No, I'm drinking myself into oblivion," she answered. "I figure if I throw up on my dress it might improve the colour."

He smirked. "It really is a miracle, you know. That you _don't _look good in that colour of pink."

She put her now empty champagne flute down. "You're mistaken, Bruce. I've _never _looked good in pink."

Thinking about it, he never had seen her wear pink. "So you're not terribly happy with Audrey then? The eighties theme may have been a little much."

"It's not the eighties theme I object to," she said. "Leg warmers I could probably cope with, but this colour is appalling."

"How do you know what people wore in the eighties?" he asked.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I've seen _Flashdance_."

"Ah." He walked over to her, took her hand. "Dance with me."

"In _this _dress? Bruce, you've got to be-"

"Diana, it's you. You could be wearing a sack and you'd stand out. Trust me when I say the dress won't attract more attention than you will."

"Liar," she grumbled, allowing him to lead her into the ballroom anyway.

They got to the middle of the couples, and began to waltz sedately, Diana managing to be annoyingly graceful considering she was well on the way to being trashed. Despite Audrey wanting an eighties theme for the wedding, Vladimir had chosen the music, and gone for blues. Diana had thanked Hera when that had been announced.

The music now changed to a familiar song. Diana felt Bruce stiffen momentarily, waiting for her reaction. She said nothing, just carried on dancing for a few moments. "Sing it for me?"

"I already have once, Princess," he rumbled in a low tone.

"If I'm not around to hear it firsthand it doesn't count," she said.

"_No_, Diana."

"Bruuuuce..."

"Are you..._pouting_?" he exclaimed.

"Depends. Is it working to wear you down?"

"No. Cut it out."

"But I prefer your version," she pleaded. "Why won't you-" As she was leaning back, she caught the embarrassed glare he was sending her way, and grinned broadly.

His face was a shade of pink to match her dress.

---

**A/N: Review please! Oh, and I'm away for the next week, so no email replying I'm afraid! Will get around to it as soon as I get back though :)**


	32. Prayer

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And this is coming to you from sunny Cyprus (not to brag or anything :P). Enjoy! **

**Prayer**

Bruce had no trouble believing in the supernatural – at least not by this point. He'd met demons and witches and magicians, even the occasional god. He'd been raised to believe in God. He'd met people who believed in other gods. In Allah, in Buddha, in Shiva and a thousand others. Diana believed in a literal pantheon of gods: Hera, Aphrodite, Athena, Apollo ... He'd seen her pray to each and every one of them.

He'd met one of the Olympians. Albeit when said god was attempting to take his head off. That had gone a long way to convince him.

But it had been thirty long years since he'd offered a prayer to any deity. He'd stood at his parents' gravesides and swore that if God had abandoned him, then the least he could do was reciprocate. After that, there was nothing Bruce believed in. No, that wasn't right. He believed in Alfred, in Dick and Tim and Clark. In the League. But it wasn't the same as a higher being, a purer form of life.

Until he – and all his allies – was betrayed by one of their own. Until he was locked in a cell on a Thanagarian transport ship, and incapable of helping anyone, forced to watch as his comrades were carried in one by one. The first one was the worst.

Diana. Her limp form was carried past his cell, her bearer paying no more care to her than he would a sack of potatoes. Bruce felt his fists curl inside their restraints. They put her in the cell next to his, then left. _Come on, Diana, come on. Wake up, get out, break a few bones and cause a few explosions. Please, Princess, just wake up. _

The rest of the League were carried in soon after that. Clark looked awful. Damn Shayera.

Still convinced (for reasons he couldn't name) that Diana would be the one to bust out first, he kept waiting for a noise from her cell. _Come on, Diana, come on ..._

Hearing the crash from her cell, and then seeing the unfortunate Thanagarian shoot across the cell block, Bruce felt a wave of triumph. _Yes_. A few seconds later, Diana ran out into the hallway, bracers up and deflecting.

"Security breach in cell block 7!"

"Diana, the force-shield!"

She heard him; ran over and punched the locking panel into a sparking mess. The electrical field fizzled out, allowing him to get out as she defended them both from Thanagarian lasers. "Free the others!" she yelled to him.

As much as he would have loved to watch her in all her glory, they had a job to do. So Bruce set to work.

A day later, he found himself high above the Earth again, this time retaking the Watchtower. _Though if the forcefield isn't down then this'll all be for nothing ..._ _Come on, Diana, don't let me down. _A redundant thought – she never had.

He dumped the Thanagarian he'd been carrying into the escape pod; made sure Wally and J'onn were in there too. Then he stepped quietly backwards.

"Is that the last of them?" J'onn asked.

"Yeah," Wally answered, looking very pleased with himself. "Tower's completely pest-free."

"Good," Bruce said, reaching for the controls to jettison the pod.

It went faster than Flash could move. "Hey!"

"What are you doing?" J'onn demanded.

"I can't risk having the Watchtower burn up on reentry," Batman answered calmly. "I'll have to guide it in manually." He paused. "Gentlemen...it's been an honour."

Everything moved swiftly after that. He ran to the control room, pulling up a map of the globe and inputting a projected course. The computer politely pulled up his seat for him, the controls extending as he strapped the harness on. Onscreen, his intended trajectory appeared. Bruce took a deep breath and grasped the levers.

_Diana, I need that forcefield down for this to work ... come on ..._

It was a matter of minutes before he entered the atmosphere. Never meant to return to Earth in one piece, the Watchtower almost immediately began burning up, the temperature increasing suddenly and dramatically. It would be minutes now. He contacted Superman.

"We're cutting it a little close," he said tersely. "Have you shut off the forcefield?"

The answer was not one he cared for. "_Not yet, where are you?_"

"Aboard the Watchtower, guiding it to target," he grunted out, sweat running in rivulets down his face, muscles straining to hold the course steady. He barely heard Kent's reply.

"_That's insane! Get out of there!_"

"Negative," he replied flatly. "I'm staying-"

The com-link fizzled and cracked; the signal was lost. He was on his own now.

Another two minutes passed, and the fires aboard the Watchtower were producing thick black smoke that managed to obscure his vision completely. He was going to die, one way or another; either by smashing into the still-functioning forcefield or by accomplishing his aim, and saving the planet.

There was another crash; the left thruster had gone, leaving him drifting dangerously off-target. Worse, he could no longer breathe properly, and knew from the black spots at the edge of his vision that unconsciousness wasn't far away. Using up the last vestiges of his strength, Batman shoved the remains of the satellite back on course. His last thought was that he knew, somehow, Diana had done it. The forcefield was down.

Now he could relax.

... or not, as the case would seem to be.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself rather close to a superhero costume. The colours were right – there was lots of red and blue – but there was a disappointing lack of stars and distinct absence of cleavage.

Clark.

Bruce let him know he was conscious with a soft groan. Clark helpfully picked up whatever menhir of rock was on top of them, and chucked it away. He glanced back at Bruce with a wry smile. "Always have to be the hero, don't you?"

"Right back at you," Bruce smirked.

"We should get back to the others," Superman said. "Oh, and don't tell Diana you tried to kill yourself with the Watchtower, will you?"

"There wasn't another option," Bruce said flatly.

"Well don't expect her to accept that."

"She helped," Batman said. "Got the forcefield down so that I could."

"And _definitely _don't tell her that."

Turned out Flash and J'onn had already told her what Batman had done. And as far as they knew, he'd died doing it. When Superman set down still carrying him, her back was to them, her head down. Though he couldn't see her face, he was sure she was fighting tears.

Suddenly Flash saw him, and gasped. "Bats!"

Diana stiffened and then turned around, relief clear on her beautiful features. Suddenly Bruce had an armful of Amazon, hugging him tightly. "How could you let me think you were dead?" she demanded. "You - you big - You big ... _jerk_!" She pulled back and followed up with a punch to his shoulder that made him stagger back a few paces.

Still, he smirked. "Good to see you too, Princess."

She closed her eyes and turned her face to the heavens, muttering a litany of prayer in thanks. He caught Hera, Athena and – for some bizarre reason – Aphrodite.

And he realised.

In the last few hours, he'd..._prayed_. To Diana.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	33. Toilet

**A/N: Dedicated to Icebreaker316, since this was her word prompt. Thank you to everyone for their reviews!**

**Toilet **

Diana had prayed to a lot of gods in her life. Aphrodite, Hera, Apollo, Dionysus, most of Olympus – with a few exceptions, of course. But after all of them, there was one deity she had never prayed to. Until two weeks ago. And now she was paying homage to the great porcelain god at least once a day.

It was generally at around seven am. Bruce had only been back from patrol a couple of hours, and was in a deep sleep. Plus she always shut the bathroom door before she started chucking her guts up, so as not to disturb him.

It was starting to become a ritual, just as much as any religious service was. She'd kneel, bow her head... admittedly the vomiting may not have been an ordinary part of her faith, but it had become so recently.

Still, at least she had an inkling about what had caused it.

Removing her hand from her mouth, she retched again. Suddenly another pair of hands were holding her hair away from her face, rubbing her back softly. After several more minutes, she stopped throwing up. A glass of water appeared in her vision, and she washed her mouth out with a grateful glance at Bruce.

"Thank you."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "How long have you suspected?" he asked.

"About ten days now," she confessed. "But I haven't taken a test."

He nodded, kissed her forehead. "Has it passed?"

"I think so," she replied. "Doesn't normally last for more than about ten minutes."

"Come back to bed."

She nodded and followed him back into the bedroom, curling up in his arms with a sigh of relief. Despite the fact that she'd only been up a few minutes, all she wanted to do was to sleep for about three days solid.

Bruce's hand stroked her abdomen softly. "We'll go to the doctor later," he whispered.

"What if I am?" she asked.

His smile told her everything she needed to know.

But then her stomach roiled, and it was time to pay another visit to the temple of the toilet.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	34. Drunk

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And just to be clear, I'm not advocating excessive alcohol consumption in any way. The healthiest way to live is not to drink at all (not that I live by that in any way ;)). Enjoy!**

**Drunk**

"So... what do you want to do now?"

For Shayera, there was only one answer. She shrugged. "Well let's see... Darkseid's gone, all the bad guys are in jail, and the entire world is having one big party!"

"So ...?" Wally asked.

She looked at him as if he were stupid. "Get drunk!"

"Ohhh. Yeah, let's do that!"

Shayera smirked. "Only let's do it at Bruce's house."

A few steps ahead, Batman stopped. "Excuse me?"

"Aw c'mon, Bats!" Flash pleaded. "The seven of us – it'll be just like old times! Except, you know... with alcohol."

"You do have quite a stock of vintage champagne," Diana pointed out. "And if it was just the seven of us at the manor then you wouldn't have to be in your cowl the whole night."

"How do you know he has a stock of vintage champagne?" Shayera enquired.

The answer was disappointing. "Alfred," the princess said simply. "I visit him once every two weeks or so. Last time I was there he needed help with bringing wine up from the cellar."

"Oh."

Diana turned her attention to the retreating Batman. To his credit, he'd gotten about half a dozen steps toward the door before she caught his arm. "Why do I get the feeling you're trying to escape celebrating?"

"I don't do 'celebrating', Princess," he said flatly.

"Bruce, how often do we save the world?" she asked.

"Regularly," he admitted.

"And how many times have you actually let yourself feel proud about that?"

His glare answered her question.

Diana grinned. "Well, that settles it. We're having champagne at your house." Taking his arm, she tugged him out of the conference room and down to the transporters.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," Shayera commented.

"About what? That she managed to get him to agree?" John asked.

"Oh, no, she's had him wrapped around her finger for years – I'm impressed with Bruce. Or maybe that's how he does it ..."

"How he does what?" Superman asked.

She shrugged. "You know – he gives her the little victories, so that the fact they're not addressing the big battle gets ignored."

Blank faces from all the men in the room. Shayera huffed. "The fact that they've been dancing around each other for years ...? The fact that Diana's in love with him?"

"What?" John and Clark exclaimed together.

"Oh dear God," Shayera said, smacking her forehead. "Are you really all this blind?" Not waiting for an answer, she walked toward the doors. "You lot coming, or not?"

---

Three hours later, the vintage champagne was still flowing freely between the by-now pretty drunk heroes. Despite being a depressant, the alcohol seemed to have made Wally even more excitable, until finally Bruce had chucked him out of the house to run around the manor's extensive grounds. Clark had lured J'onn into watching football, and apparently champagne did have an effect on Martians; he was getting as passionate about the game as Clark was. John and Shayera had rummaged around in Bruce's music collection until they'd gotten to the eighties section that he hadn't listened to since the age of sixteen, then proceeded to dance madly to it. Or they _had _been.

Now they seemed to be sharing very giggly kisses in the corner.

"Ha! Checkmate!"

His attention switched to the chessboard as he squinted at the knight Diana had moved in front of his king. "How did it get there?" he asked, looking up at her triumphant smirk.

"Like this," she demonstrated, moving it backward in an 'L' shape before putting it back.

"That's not how knights move, Princess."

"Is too!" she frowned.

"No, that's how bishops move," he insisted. "Knights move in a diagonal line, like this."

"They do not!"

"I would think _I _know how knights move," he smirked.

"Well I'm playing white, so you might know how dark knights move, but _my _knights move like that."

"You can't just make up rules of chess," he objected.

"Can too."

"Not in _my _house you can't."

"You're wrong anyway," she said, following it up with sticking her tongue out at him.

"There's a book of games rules over there," he said. "I'll go get it." He got up... and then immediately sat back down again. "Knew there was a reason I don't drink," he muttered. "Go get it, Princess."

She glared.

"Please."

Gratified, she floated into the air, which he thought was a cop-out, since that way she wouldn't give away the fact that she was just as drunk as he was. He told her as much, and got a light swat on the shoulder as she drifted past for his trouble. Huh. That didn't hurt. Yay for alcohol.

Having located the right book, Diana waved it up in victory. "Found it!"

"Well bring it back over here," he complained. "I don't trust you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but flew back over. He noted that John and Shayera had disappeared. He really hoped they weren't in his bedroom. As Diana levitated past, he acted on the impulse to grab her hand. Surprised, she fell out of the air onto his lap. Bruce decided he should really be more impulsive.

"Show me the book," he said.

She handed it over, and he looked. "No, Bruce, those are the rules of chequers."

He looked at the board. "Wait, what are we playing?"

She giggled. He'd have bet money she _couldn't _giggle like that. It made her sound cute. "Chess, Bruce. We're playing chess."

"Chess. Right." He flicked through the pages until he came to the right one. "Oh. Crap."

"So I win?" she asked.

He nodded, but refused to give into the pout that was rapidly developing. Diana giggled again, kissed it away with a peck on his lips. The pout vanished. Diana looked over at the TV – in front of which both Clark and J'onn were passed out. Huh. She didn't even know J'onn _could _pass out.

She sighed, glanced back at the man whose lap she was still sitting on. "You really wouldn't think superheroes would be such lightweights, would you?"

Bruce snorted. "Speak for yourself."

She raised an eyebrow. "How much champagne have you had?"

He frowned. "Point taken."

She grinned. "So...what do you want to do now?"

Bruce looked at her, letting himself note her sparkling eyes and breathless smile for once. She really was _staggeringly _beautiful. Of course the staggering part could be down to the champagne. Still, for once he decided to be honest about what he wanted to do.

The next morning, his aching head did not thank him for drinking quite so much. The rest of his body was not so bad – mainly because of the other warm body pressed against his.

He looked down at Diana's sleeping face. Her sleeping, smiling face. Apparently hangovers weren't something Amazons had to deal with. Well, at least he hadn't been that drunk that he'd forgotten the fantastic sex. _Would have happened sooner or later... _he reflected.

Deciding that he was quite happy it had happened sooner, and knowing that for once his and Diana's wishes matched up perfectly, Bruce closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Maybe he should get drunk more often.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	35. Kinky

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Here's the next chapter, and be warned, there is bad language!**

**Kinky **

She never used to be kinky. She'd probably have hit the person who called her that into the middle of next week.

But then she never used to be bored, either.

It started with little things. The change in her uniform. She never gave a reason for it; he knew it was to tease him. Somehow the full body suit made look far less dressed than her original armour ever had – and she knew he liked divesting her of it, peeling off the layers one by one to reveal a little more skin each time.

She cut her hair; not because it was more functional, or practical, but because she knew how much he loved her long hair, running his fingers through it, feeling the cool silkiness of it covering both their bodies. And she wanted to push him. Wanted to see how much power she held in their dysfunctional relationship. He didn't like it. She knew that much; the way they slept together changed, was no longer anywhere approaching tender. It didn't stop. But she was no longer his Princess.

Instead she was just an outwardly beautiful woman, just as he'd always been an outwardly beautiful man. Two outwardly beautiful, inwardly broken people, screwing each other senseless on a regular basis, holding on to the echo of the heroes they'd once been.

Next it was tiny tattoo of a bat. On her ass. To mock him; physically she might belong to him, but she'd never been less his than she was now.

It amused him slightly, seeing her change – a harsh, cynical amusement that he felt about everything now. They would never be any more than this. Perhaps they would have been once, but not now. Now, they'd established a pattern, a rut.

She made a change, he either didn't like it or he did, but they carried on. Until it got boring. Then she made another change. He liked or didn't like it. It carried on.

Their rendezvous had moved; from making love in the bedroom to having sex in the shower, to finally simply fucking in the Batcave.

It was when the Lasso of Truth – which had not made the cut to her new uniform – became a part of their sex games that Bruce decided enough was enough. He could cope with an occasionally kinky Diana.

But not a Diana when kinkiness was all she had. Maybe there was a way he could fix this...

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	36. Challenge

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This is dedicated to Hepburn, since it is her prompt word. It is spectacularly long, I have to warn you - and I may have got quite a bit of the science wrong, but we're not here for science, are we? ;) Enjoy! **

**Challenge **

"Ooof!"

"Not in danger of getting out of breath are you, Princess?" Batman smirked.

In truth, she was very much out of breath, but that was because she had just had two hundred plus pounds of man land heavily on top of her, preventing her lungs from working properly. It didn't help that every time she did manage to take a breath, she inhaled a mix of fresh male sweat and his own intoxicating scent.

They were sparring. And she was losing.

Mainly because he kept doing things like — _Oh Great Hera _— that; this time he actually licked his lips. Since he was stretched out on top of her, his mouth was less than an inch from hers.

He rolled off her, got to his feet nimbly. She followed suit, flying to her feet before he managed to get to his. Just in time to — in theory — kick his feet out from under him. Of course, what she actually got was a fist to the jaw.

Damn it, the man was fast.

She used the momentum, and backflipped, her booted foot catching him under the chin. He stepped back a pace, but kept his footing. Diana sank her fist into his midsection, but as she drew it back again, he grabbed her wrist, and then was suddenly behind her, twisting her arm behind her back, contorting it to an angle he had to know was painful. She couldn't move without risking dislocating her shoulder, so couldn't defend against what she knew was coming; he kicked the back on her knees, hard, and she landed on them heavily, Bruce behind her.

He bent, she felt unbearably hot breath against her shoulder and neck. He _had _to know what that did to her. If he did, he was using it to his advantage, since in came the sexiest voice this side of the Elysian fields.

He breathed lowly into her ear, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "One of these days you might set me a real challenge."

Something in Diana snapped.

It was one thing to flirt with her on monitor duty, or before a Founders' meeting started, but not when they were sparring. Fighting like this was an exercise in controlling power, in tactics. It was meant to highlight weaknesses in technique that could be fatal in battle. And no possible enemy she could face would affect her like this. So exactly _why _Bruce thought this was acceptable behaviour, she had no idea.

It was time this _ended_, one way or the other.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she shot upward. Sure enough, her arm was wrenched out of its socket, and Bruce had no choice but to let go. They both clearly heard the gristly crack as the joint gave way, but Diana paid no heed to it. Bruce, however, frowned in both concern and puzzlement.

"Diana —"

His sentence was cut short as Diana pressed her good forearm into his throat. Effectively choking him for the time being, she leaned in. "You want a _challenge_, Bruce? Fine!" She lifted her arm, and thus his feet a few inches from the floor. "Decide what you want from me," she hissed. "I _challenge _you to be the man _I _want." She let go, and he collapsed to the floor. "And if you can't do that, then stop. Stop flirting with me, stop _toying_ with me. Stop everything."

Leaving him gasping for breath, she turned and stalked out of the room. Once the door was closed, however, the burning pain in her shoulder returned full-force. Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, she headed for the Infirmary. She ran into Clark on the way.

He smiled. "Hey, Diana, how — What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"It's dislocated," she answered shortly. "Would you mind?"

He frowned. "Shouldn't you go into the Infirmary?"

"Please, Clark."

His frown got deeper, but he nodded. "Sure."

He moved to her side, grabbed her wrist with one hand and put a palm against her side. "This is going to hurt," he warned.

"Pain does not scare me, Superman," she snapped.

Eyebrows climbing toward his hairline, he tightened his grip slightly. "Going to tell me how it happened?"

"Sparring ma — Ah!"

While she was mid-sentence, he'd pulled sharply, and with a second cracking sound, Diana's shoulder popped back into place. The pain immediately lessened to a dull ache. "Thank you," she sighed.

He nodded and stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. "Sparring match with who?"

"Bruce," she growled.

Clark, to his credit, did not say anything more. Diana marched away, heading to her room and a shower. Clark watched her go, then decided he'd give Bruce a visit. Not that he was expecting anything, but live in hope.

---

He knew he'd pushed her too far today, but only a little further than he normally did. In truth, the sexual tension between them (he wasn't going to waste time pretending that wasn't there) had always been enjoyable, especially during their sparring sessions. Apparently it had ceased to be enjoyable for Diana. He hadn't been expecting her to do that though — part of him had even expected her to kiss him. But to deliberately dislocate her own arm…

_Be the man _I _want. _

God he wanted to. He wanted to be that man so badly, but… He obviously had been that man once, but now, for whatever reason, he wasn't.

_Stop toying with me. _

Toying with her?

Behind him, the doors hissed open. Oh joy. Boyscout to the rescue again. "Better be important," he growled before Clark said a word.

"It is," he answered. "How — and why — did you almost break Diana's arm?"

"We were sparring. End of."

"Neither of you have ended up seriously injured before," Superman pointed out. "What happened?"

Bruce was saved from answering by a blaring alarm going off, followed by red lighting flashing up. Batman didn't blink — this was the reason he'd stayed onboard after the sparring session. Or rather, this was the reason he'd _intended _to stay; now he was here brooding over Diana.

"What on earth is that?"

Bruce checked the readings. As expected. "Meteor strike."

"What?! Have we got time to evacuate?" Superman rushed over to the Watchtower's PA and grabbed the microphone. "All personnel, this is-"

Batman covered the microphone. "It was predicted months ago, Superman, and the Watchtower will withstand it."

Clark's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "Never mind," he said weakly into the microphone.

Bruce rolled his eyes and took the PA from him. "All personnel, this is Batman."

Just stepping into the shower, Diana muttered an unkind word in Themysciran, and turned the shower pressure up high, letting the noise drown out his voice.

Back in the monitor room, Bruce continued. "In approximately ten point eight minutes, a meteor storm will hit the Watchtower. This has been predicted, and should not cause a problem. However for safety, get to the escape shuttles. Move calmly and orderly - there is no rush, and do not jettison until I give the command."

Letting go of the microphone, he started tapping at the controls. Glancing at the security cameras, he saw the other League members leaving various areas — the commissary, the sparring rooms, their quarters — to move towards the escape shuttles, as they'd been instructed.

"Should we join them?" Clark asked from behind him.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. "I'll stay here and monitor the strike. If the hull's breached, someone has to be here to try and stop decompression."

The Kryptonian nodded. "I'll make sure everyone's accounted for," he told him. He started toward the door, but then stopped to look back. "Don't do anything stupid, Bruce. I'd hate to have to come rushing to your rescue because you tried to go down with the ship... again."

Bruce growled, but Clark just grinned at him and left.

The next ten minutes passed calmly, still giving him time to think about Diana. Perhaps she was right - flirting and innuendo was all well and good, and so far it had worked for them, but maybe one day there had to come a time when they actually made it to something _real _or...

He grimaced. Or it was time for them to go their separate ways. He didn't want that. Their separate ways meant... well, just that. Diana not being there, not responding with her usual light banter? He couldn't handle that. Or he could — but things would get depressing as hell.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he turned his attention back to the monitors. The meteors were now only thirty seconds away. Everyone was on standby to be evacuated by now, though he was certain it wouldn't be necessary. The Watchtower's automatic defense systems would take out the big ones, and the armour should stop the ones that managed to sneak through.

Twenty seconds.

Suddenly Clark's voice came over his com-link. It was calmer than expected. "Batman?"

"Yes?"

"Diana's not here."

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. "I'll contact her, don't worry."

"There's nothing to worry about is there?" Superman returned, a smirk in his voice.

Bruce ignored him and put a hand to his com-link. "Diana, come in."

Nothing.

"Damn it, Diana, this is important."

Still nothing, and seven seconds to impact. "Wonder Woman!"

Six, five, four -

"_You've just got me out of the shower, Batman, it had better-" _

The automatic laser defence system woke up, targeted the massive chunks of rock coming toward them, then fired.

As expected, some got through. Three, two, one-

"You need to get out —"

Impact.

The whole Watchtower shook as the meteors hit — more than it should have done. Cursing, Bruce held onto whatever structure was solid enough not to be dislodged and waited for it to pass. The laser defence system was still active, and still firing, and the armour was also holding. After no more than ten seconds of impacts to the Watchtower, the meteor storm passed, and the satellite stabalised.

Bruce only had one thing on his mind. "Diana? Diana, answer me!"

"_I'm fine_," she answered calmly, "_what happened?" _

"Meteor strike on the Watchtower."

Her voice was annoyed when she answered. "And you couldn't have warned me —"

The computer's voice cut in. "_Decompression alert. Decompression alert._"

"Shit!"

Batman looked at the screen, pinpointing the leak. It couldn't be big; if there was a huge hole an entire section of the Watchtower would have buckled, and they'd all have their blood boiling in microseconds. Sure enough, the decompression was small, and was located — _Oh that's just fantastic. _

"Diana, can you get out?"

"What?" she asked. "Why would I need to —"

"Decompression is occurring on your level. Slowly, but in a few minutes you're going to run out of air."

When she spoke again, her voice was perfectly calm. "I don't think I can," she said. "The corridor seems to be completely blocked — I could probably smash through or bend it, but that would risk widening the breach."

"Either way you'll run out of air," he said, feeling an unfamiliar emotion rise up to settle somewhere at the back of his throat.

"I know, Bruce, but it's not without a solution. Have J'onn phase to me with some oxygen —"

"J'onn can't phase _objects,_ Diana, only himself!"

"Then bring a shuttle around to the other side of the Watchtower and I'll get out of the airlock this side. That's not blocked."

"It'll take too long!"

"We don't have a choice," she said.

Was it just him, or was her voice getting fainter. "You need to get out _now_!"

His voice sounded nothing like normal. It wasn't calm and logical. It was almost bordering on panic. And he felt it, an emotion he hadn't _allowed _for more than twenty years. Fear was cold, did nothing useful, and only prevented you from completing the task you had set out to do. A team-mate didn't feel fear for another team-mate. But a man knowing that the woman he cared so deeply for was about to die — _he _felt fear. _He _knew what panic felt like, gripping at his heart and clawing at his lungs. _He _knew fear intimately.

For the past two decades, Batman had presented the ultimate challenge to fear. He had defied it in his every waking moment while at the same time using it as a cheap trick on the scum in Gotham. Fear, it seemed, had finally caught up with him.

"Bruce," she said calmly. "We don't have a choice. I'll reduce my intake of oxygen as much as possible, but you have to get that shuttle here."

He forced himself to answer as he normally would. "Acknowledged. Standby for the shuttle's arrival."

"I will. Try not to worry so much, Bruce." The smile in her voice came through as forced even through the com-link.

He didn't answer. It would be pointless. Instead he left the monitor room and sprinted to where the escape shuttles were waiting. Superman's shuttle was the first in line, and he punched open the door with a grim expression.

Clark's face was equally unhappy. "Is she alright?"

"Arrow, Vixen, Canary and Steel — out," Batman ordered.

They all filed past him, and Bruce shot the door. "She's trapped on Dormitory Deck A — there's a decompression, a slow one, but she's going to run out of air if we don't get there fast."

"On it."

"_Fast_, Kent," he repeated. "If we don't get there within..." he checked, blanched, "... three minutes, she's going to run out of air."

Clark dutifully increased the throttle until the craft was shaking with the force of it, but it did speed away from the Watchtower quickly.

Bruce touched his com-link again. "Don't talk, Diana, but Superman and I are on the way."

Silence.

What if she'd already run out of air? What if she'd lied, and she really _was _injured and he didn't know, what if her com-link had ceased to work and- "Diana? Diana, do you copy?"

"You told me not to talk."

He breathed half a sigh of relief at her strong voice. "I know, I just... Just hold on Princess."

"I've never seen you like this," his friend noted when he took his hand away, looking positively alarmed.

"This has never happened before," he barked swiftly.

Clark frowned. "We've all been in danger before, Bruce - so has Diana."

"Not-" He cut himself off.

"Not what?"

"Not without _me_, she hasn't," he said, the reluctant truth coming to the fore.

It was a fact. She'd never been in a situation where she was in very real danger of death... when he wasn't there. Which was ridiculous, since even if he had been there there was absolutely nothing he could do. It wasn't helping.

Of course there was nothing else he could do _here _either, so ignoring Clark, Batman resorted to pacing back and forth across the floor. He knew the other Leaguers would be coming out of the escape shuttles, and that there was more damage to the Watchtower. He should be making a list of what would need repairs, double-checking that there were no more leaks in the hull, _anything _useful. But those things were completely beyond him right now.

It was one thing to have Diana impose a deadline on him, challenge him to show her something real, but to have that decision taken entirely out of his hands-! It sounded childish, but it wasn't _fair _that he should lose her like this. Let him drive her away, let him become a bitter lonely old man through his own decisions if necessary, but not like this. _Not like this. _

And after this, once she was safe and warm, was he still fooling himself that he could pretend? In the heat of battle it was easy to ignore how important she was - they all risked their lives, not just Diana, but now. Now it was _just _Diana in mortal peril. And that fact was vital, because _she _was vital — but just how much, he was only just finding out. This was an extreme version of what she'd meant. Stopping their less-than-professional relations was one thing, but this would remove her from his life altogether. Which was completely unacceptable. It would mean... _lonely old age here I come. _Christ, he was lonely _now_ — in fifty years time, when he'd probably _want _company?

_I can't lose her_, he realised.

It seemed to be something that needed vocalising, since suddenly he found himself making the declaration to the general atmosphere. "I can't lose her. Now or ever."

There, that was it. It just _wasn't _happening.

"About time," Superman sighed.

Startled that he'd somehow forgotten the Kryptonian's presence, Bruce blinked. "Excuse me?"

Clark smirked. "I think you heard me. I said it was about time. It took you long enough, Bruce."

"I..." Trailing off, he settled for a batglare. "This doesn't leave this shuttle."

"Agreed. _If _you tell Diana that."

Bruce's gaze returned to the view ahead. _If she's alive then I'll marry her, _he felt like muttering, but didn't. Clark would hear it, and then he'd probably take it seriously — and he wasn't ready for that.

Suddenly his attention sharpened. "Tell me that's not..."

Clark leaned forward too, though for him there really was no need. "It is," he confirmed. "The airlock seal is damaged."

"How damaged?"

"I don't know. We won't until we attempt to dock with it."

A few seconds later, they were close enough to dock with the Watchtower once more. There was no problem at first, but Bruce's paranoia was nagging at him again. Sure enough, when he tried to open the Watchtower's doors, the airlock refused to cooperate. There was no air in order to fill it and allow them to dock fully. Opening it manually would mean that any remaining air in that section of the Watchtower would be sucked out in order to fill the airlock.

Bruce cursed and sorted through his options again. Finding one — albeit not an ideal one — he opened the compartment containing the oxygen masks, and chucked one to Clark. "Put it on."

Looking puzzled, Clark did as he was told, fixing the mask over his nose and mouth. "Now what?" he asked, voice slightly muffled.

Bruce gestured at the shuttle's loading door. "I'm opening this door, and then you smash through into the airlock. The air will be sucked from in her into the airlock, then we can open it."

Clark nodded, and then Batman opened the doors of the shuttle, making sure to hold onto something before he did. At a signal from Batman, Clark went into action, effortlessly smashing through the Watchtower airlock. With a hissing, sucking noise, all the air inside the shuttle rushed out of it, and into the air lock.

"Equilisation will occur once we've opened the Watchtower. It means... It means more air will be pulled out of the Watchtower to re-oxygenise the shuttle."

"But —"

"I know," Batman interrupted brusquely. "But we don't have a choice."

Superman nodded against his better instincts, and then moved. The reinforced steel doors were shredded like tissue paper. A few seconds later, there was less air in the Watchtower than there had been before. Bruce didn't waste any time; he grabbed another oxygen mask and ran past Clark and down the hallway. He heard Clark trying a failing to contact Diana on her com-link. Ran faster.

By the time he got to Diana's door, his panic hadn't faded one iota. "User override 001."

"User recognised. ID: Bat —"

"Open this door," he ordered.

The doors hissed opened unbearably slowly, and Bruce was through them before they'd opened fully. "Diana! Diana!"

When he saw her, she had obviously tried to conserve as much oxygen as possible. She was on her bed, lying down on her back. And she was unconscious. "Her heart's still beating," Clark assured.

"But she's not breathing! Diana! Diana, wake up!" He shook her shoulder, but she remained unresponsive. Taking the spare oxygen mask, he placed it over her face and secured it. Wasting no time, he scooped her up. "Back to the shuttle, then we're getting to her the med-bay."

By the the time they were back in the shuttle and taking off, Diana was already beginning to stir. Bruce let out a sigh of relief. She was gong to be okay. Thank... _Hera _for that. As her arm came up randomly to swat her mask away, he took her hand gently.

"No, Diana. It needs to stay on."

"Hmmm ...?"

"Princess."

Her eyes opened, and she looked at him blearily. "Breathe," he advised.

With that, she seemed to realise that she was out of danger now, and that it would be alright for her to take deep breaths again. Suddenly her chest was heaving as she pulled in huge gulps of air. After a few minutes, her breathing had evened out, and she pulled the mask off.

Bruce put it back on again. "Until we get to the infirmary."

"I'm fine, Bruce."

"Let J'onn be the judge of that."

When they docked at the non-damaged side of the Watchtower, Bruce made to carry Diana again without thinking about it. How was it affection was suddenly so easy, even in such simple gestures?

She put a hand on his chest, took her mask off, but spoke to the other occupant of the shuttle. "Clark, would you mind giving us a minute?"

Clark looked surprised, but nodded and left once the airlock was open.

Diana smiled at him. "Bruce, stop trying to reassure me. I wasn't for a moment concerned that you might not reach me in time."

"_I _was."

She blinked. "But... you always stay calm. You always —"

"For a moment... I wasn't acting _or_ thinking as I_ always _do," he said quietly.

Diana stopped. "What?"

He turned to looked at, and removed the cowl. "I wasn't thinking straight, Diana."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He let out a laugh that held no mirth. "Because you were about to die!" he said. "How was I supposed to-"

"Bruce, we've all been in situations like that before," she said, coming closer.

He took her hands before he'd even thought about it. "But it was _you, _Diana. If it had been Superman or GL, I would have been fine. I'd have kept a cool head, stayed calm and got them out. But it was _you_."

Her breathing seemed to have hitched in her throat. "Are you —" _Are you saying what I think you're saying? _

"When you told me you to be the man you wanted — what did you mean?"

She bit her lower lip. "I think I meant that."

That was, really, all she'd wanted; for him to show emotion where she was concerned, even a little bit. Or no, not emotion, but _difference_. To make her feel that she was different to anyone else. That didn't mean at work in the League — it just meant... a touch on her hand when no one else was looking, or a _smile_ every once in a while.

She didn't have time to think of what else she might have wanted from him, because his mouth was on hers and her brain shut down. He kissed her gently, softly. "Then consider your challenge answered."

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	37. Isis

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This is dedicated to warrior-within89, since this is his prompt word. I have to say I really enjoyed writing it (even if that is a little narcissistic). Enjoy!**

**Isis**

Diana looked down to see a cat twining itself around her ankles. Its fur was black and shiny, it looked sleek and healthy. She, Diana decided. This cat was definitely a 'she'. She bent and extended a hand; the cat sniffed delicately at her fingertips and then decided she liked her, coming forward. Diana smiled and stroked the cat's head, scratching behind her ears.

The cat purred loudly and rubbed her head on Diana's hand. "Well aren't you beautiful?" she murmured, crouching. "And far too well-cared for to be a stray..."

She looked up and down the hallway of her New York apartment building, but no one seemed to be looking for the cat. When she looked down again, the cat had disappeared. Apparently into her apartment. Diana went inside and chuckled. The cat was sat down in her kitchen, one paw on the fridge.

"So you found the milk then?"

She agreed with a miaow, then stepped back to let her get the milk out, fixing the woman with an imperious expression. "Oh so you're royalty as well? We do make a perfect pair."

She poured some milk into a small bowl and set it on the floor; the cat began lapping the white liquid up hungrily. "I hope you understand, this is a one-time deal," Diana told her. "I'm not taking care of you for good. In fact generally I don't even like cats."

For a very good reason that involved one Cat_woman _and her lover's history with said feline femme fatale. No, Diana liked dogs. Big, furry, dangerous-looking dogs. She was working on talking Bruce into getting an Irish Wolfhound. Alfred was all for the plan too — as long as the dog didn't shed hairs all over the manor.

Once the cat was done with the milk, she picked up the bowl and put it in the sink to be washed up later.

"Isis! Isis!"

Diana looked toward the front door; out in the hallway, someone was yelling. She looked appraisingly at the cat. "Well you certainly look regal enough to be named after a goddess I suppose." She walked toward the door. "Come on."

The cat obediently followed and trotted out into the hallway. "Isis! Is- Oh there you are!"

Diana looked out into the hallway. The woman who'd been calling the cat now had her twining around her ankles — something Diana was sure she found unhelpful, since she had three rather heavy looking boxes in one hand, and was balancing a baby on her hip with the other.

As the princess watched, she stumbled slightly, and the topmost box began to topple. Diana caught it just before it fell. "Here, let me help you."

The woman — whose face was still hidden by the other two boxes — breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"No problem. Are you moving in?" she asked.

"Yeah, we just got here. Um, it's apartment 87b — the key's in my pocket, would you mind-?"

"Not at all."

Finding the key and putting it in the lock, Diana opened the door. "I'm two doors down," she explained as the women moved inside.

The other woman put the boxes on a counter with a relived sigh. "Phew that's better." The child at her hip shifted a little restlessly. "Hush, Helena, sweetie, I'll get you a bottle in a second." She turned with a smile. "I'm-" She cut off with wide eyes, just as Diana was doing. "You!"

Diana spluttered a little bit. "_You_!"

Selina Kyle threw her free arm up. "I can't believe this. I left Gotham to get away from all this, and I end up living in _Wonder Woman's _apartment building!"

Diana wasn't convinced for one second. "Oh really, that's why you left Gotham is it? Not to hit the Guggenheim or somewhere else?"

When Catwoman had disappeared from Gotham, Batman had warned the rest of the League who took care of specific cities across the country to be on alert for an increase in thefts. Since moving here, New York had become Diana's patch.

Selina's green eyes narrowed. "I left so I could raise my child in peace, not so I could be confronted by people like you everywhere I look!"

Diana's eyes fell on the child, looking upset about her mother shouting. She was a pretty little girl. But all Diana could see was the fact that she had blue eyes. It wasn't possible. Surely it wasn't. Bruce would have told her if- They'd been together almost a year now, surely if he had-

"Just your child?" she asked, narrowing her own eyes.

"She's not _his_, if that's what you're asking."

Diana didn't show her relief. "Why are you really here?"

"I just _told _you," Selina sighed, leaning against the counter and issuing a mirthless laugh. "God, the universe must hate me."

Diana looked at her appraisingly. She did _look _genuine, and she didn't think that even Selina Kyle would involve a baby in her games. "Alright," Diana finally said. "But if you put one _toe _out of line in my city —"

"Your city? You really have been spending too much time around Batman," the other woman scoffed.

"I mean it, Catwoman."

Selina put a hand up. "Look, it's not 'Catwoman' anymore — at least not for a while. I'm just a single mom, trying to raise my daughter in a place where I don't have to worry about my ex checking up on me all the time."

Diana was still not happy, but it was difficult to stay angry when baby Helena was looking at her with huge eyes that said, 'why are you shouting at my mommy?'. The tension was broken when Isis, either tired of being ignored or defending her mistress, sank her claws into Diana's foot.

She drew in a sharp breath. "Ouch!"

"Isis!" Selina scolded. "Hang on, I've got a band-aid in here somewhere," she muttered, rummaging in a box.

For all Diana knew, that box could contain a certain bullwhip that was about to be wrapped around her neck, so quickly shook her head. "Don't bother. It'll have already healed."

Selina nodded. "Right. Meta, I forgot." She paused. "Look, Wonder Woman-"

"Diana. Out of the uniform it's Diana Prince," the princess explained.

Selina nodded. "Secret identity, huh? When did that become necessary?"

"You don't read the gossip columns, do you?" Diana asked.

"I've been out of the country for the last six months," the other woman explained.

"Ah." Diana lifted her chin somewhat defiantly. "Well it became necessary when Bruce and I started our relationship."

Selina only nodded neutrally with a distant expression that could have meant anything. Then she looked up again. "Look... we both know he's my past, and this could be awkward, but maybe he's your future-"

"He is," Diana interrupted.

"Then I won't interfere. But I'm not leaving New York."

The two women stared each other down for a moment before Diana finally nodded. "Alright. But if you put a _toe _out of line -"

"I haven't come here for any other reason than to raise my daughter," Selina said.

"Then you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

This time, a hint of Selina's relief showed through. "Agreed."

The princess turned to go, but Selina stopped her. "Diana."

"Yes?"

"Can you... not tell him I'm here? If he knows he'll watch me — and that's why I left Gotham."

Diana hesitated. Everything in her heart was contrasting totally with what everything in her head was screaming. This was Catwoman. She _could not _be trusted. But out of the catsuit, suddenly Selina seemed so much more... human. She just seemed like a mother.

"One month," she finally decided. "If you last one month without breaking any of the law or _my _laws, then I won't tell him at all. But if at the end of that month I'm not satisfied..."

Selina's expression was far from happy, but but nodded. "Fine."

One month passed. And Selina did nothing that Diana wasn't happy with, so she kept her word, didn't breathe a word of it to anyone. It wasn't particularly comfortable, keeping something from Bruce, but she knew full-well that he would not consult her if he was doing something in Gotham, and New York was her territory. When he eventually found out — she was in absolutely no doubt he would — that would be her main defence. She just hoped Selina didn't let her down.

---

_Six months later_

Bruce boarded the elevator without really being able to see where he was going, mainly thanks to the enormous bouquet of red roses he was carrying. They were in a good cause — he'd spent the last two months psyching himself up for this, and though he was pretty certain Diana would say yes, the roses couldn't hurt. He was early, mainly because it would be nice to put the flowers down; his shoulder had been aching like a bitch since Killer Croc had dislocated it for him four days ago.

The elevator arrived at Diana's floor, and he stepped out to see her already in the hallway, all dressed up to go to the opera with her back to him, talking to a neighbour. She was holding something in her arms. He indulged himself by looking her up and down. The fact that her back was bare all the way down to the base of her spine only reinforced his decision to ask her to move in. He wanted to come home to that view every day.

Then her words filtered through. "Honestly, I don't mind. I trust you. After all —" It was a black cat; she was holding a black cat, "— you trust me with something important to you."

The other woman sighed. "I _have _missed it, but I couldn't leave Helena —"

Wait, he knew that voice...

"— as if I'd mind babysitting!" Diana laughed. "She's a great kid, Selina —"

"_Selina_?!"

Diana jumped around like she'd been stung. "Bruce! What are you doing here so early?"

The bright green eyes of the cat looked at him with such baleful familiarity that it could only have belonged to one person. And if _Isis _was here, then it was definitely _that _Selina.

He stormed to the doorway, and sure enough, Selina Kyle met his gaze. "What the _hell _are you doing in New York?!"

"_Living_ here!" she said defiantly.

He turned accusing eyes on Diana. "You _knew _about this?"

She was looking strangely unashamed of herself. "Of course I knew. Bruce, she's living in my corridor, in my city. Credit me with some intelligence."

Isis was squirming in her arms, so Diana passed her back Selina — with a smile.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "_How _long have you known about this?"

"Since the day I helped her move in," Diana said briskly. "Selina, would you mind-?"

The shorter woman nodded. "Helena needs feeding anyway. See you later, Di."

_Di?! _Bruce thought incredulously. What on Earth _was _this? He followed Diana into her apartment and slammed the door after him.

"Unless you want to pay to have that fixed, I'll ask you not to slam my front door like that, Bruce," she said, folding her arms and looking like she was preparing for a fight.

"How long has she been here?" he demanded.

"Seven months."

"Seven _months_?!"

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"How could you keep this from the League?" It was Batman standing in the Armani tux now.

"It was nothing to do with the League. The fact that she's been here so long proves that; she hasn't broken the law once in seven months."

"Just because you haven't caught her doing it doesn't mean she hasn't —"

"Are you doubting my ability to protect my city?" she asked swiftly.

He had the impression she'd been rehearsing this. "Of course not —"

"Then why are you so worried that I can't handle Selina Kyle?"

"Because you don't _know _her!"

"I've known her from the moment she moved in. Do you honestly believe I'd just accept her word on faith? That I am that naïve?"

"I didn't say you were naïve," he said. "Don't put —"

"You implied it," she pointed out. "Bruce, I've been watching her extremely closely for the past seven months. In that time, she has done nothing that would suggest she intends to begin breaking the law again. She moved from Gotham because she wanted to raise her daughter in peace. A fresh start."

"And you _believe _her?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I didn't at first. But yes, I do."

"You can't trust her, Diana!"

"Bruce, I do trust her. And if you don't, then at least trust me," she said, fixing him with a very direct gaze. "Can you do that?"

"Of course I trust _you_, Princess, but this isn't —"

"Then please trust my judgment," she requested.

There was silence in the apartment as she kept eye-contact with him, waiting for his reply. "But, Diana, you have to understand, when she was in Gotham —"

"But this _isn't _Gotham," she said gently.

Well, there couldn't be any arguing with that. He sighed. "I'm not happy about it."

She nodded. "I know. But please understand I had to be sure before I told anyone, even you."

Bruce finally nodded. If she'd argued from the heart, reacting through her emotions then he would have won the argument. He would have been able to be right. But she'd argued logically, without losing her temper. Damn, she knew him too well.

"Alright," he conceded. "I trust you."

She smiled. "Thank you. Now you can kiss me."

She grabbed his tie and pulled him toward her, kissing away any lingering worry. She smiled when they pulled apart. "So — _Carmen?"_

He didn't return the smile. "Actually, before we go, I wanted to ask you something."

She raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I wanted to ask you... I mean, only if you want to, there's no pressure or anything —" Oh dear God, he was babbling.

Luckily, Diana put her fingers to his lips. "Bruce. Just ask me."

"Move into the manor?"

She grinned. "I'd love to."

"So you'd leave New York?" he asked. "What about your city?"

She smiled, her eyes sliding toward the door. "I have a feeling I've found a good successor."

---

**A/N: I have no idea if Selina Kyle's cat is really called Isis, but in Chaosmob's **_**Switcheroo **_**that's what she's called. Excellent story by the way, so go read it if you haven't already! Review please!**


	38. Nostalgia

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Here's the next one, and it's set sometime during **_**Batman Beyond**_

**Nostalgia **

"Damn it," Bruce muttered, leaning back in his chair. He'd been searching for days now, and still nothing.

"What's up?" Terry asked, just coming in.

Bruce wasn't sure if it was because it was Monday, because for once he hadn't woken up with his bones aching, or because he did actually want to talk. It had been known before. One or twice a decade.

"This," he said, indicating the file onscreen. "It's incomplete."

Terry looked, trying and failing to hide his surprise. "An old JLU personnel file?"

Bruce nodded. "It's incomplete."

Terry clicked through it. "What's incomplete about it?" he finally asked, scrolling back up to the top.

Bruce pointed. "The picture."

Terry's look was sceptical. "It has one."

"It isn't...accurate."

"What's inaccurate about it? Isn't that what she looked like?"

"Looks. And no. It's lacking."

"Lacking what?"

"Just lacking!"

Raising his eyebrows at Bruce's uncharacteristic outburst, Terry shrugged. "There must be hundreds of images of her on the internet."

"Thousands," Bruce corrected, looking at the file picture again. "I've looked through them all. And they're all wrong."

"Wrong? Wrong how?"

Bruce couldn't explain. He just knew that they were. None of the images he'd sifted through got the brightness of her eyes, or the warmth of her smile. The way the wind would catch her hair sometimes and-

"Just wrong," he finally said.

Terry shrugged. "Alright. Want me to see if the other Founders have any better ones? I could ask Superman."

Bruce nodded. "He wants your help with something anyway."

Terry nodded, then left for the Metrotower. The Cave was abysmally silent in his wake. For the first time in a long time, Bruce found he wanted company. Company aside from the dog.

_Preferably company that comes in the form of an Amazon princess..._

Cursing viciously, Bruce shoved the thought aside. He hadn't thought about Diana in years, and now all of a sudden... No, that wasn't right. He hadn't thought about Diana because he hadn't let himself think about Diana. From the second she pointed her invisible jet toward Themyscira he hadn't let himself.

From the second she kissed him in farewell and regret.

Mutual regret, though he'd never let that show. No, he might not have thought about Diana, but that didn't mean she didn't hover at the edges of his empty heart. She did – had done, in fact, for the last twenty years. He dreamt about her occasionally, and last night had been one such instance. He'd woken with an overwhelming desire to see her face...but all the pictures he had didn't begin to do justice to her.

Leaving her file to one side, he turned his attention to more important matters. Terry came back a few hours later, pulling into the Cave more slowly than usual, Bruce noted.

"How did it go?" he asked without turning around.

"Fine. Problem had been resolved by the time I got there."

"Alright. Patrol?"

"Fine too. I couldn't find any better images," Terry continued, an odd tone in his voice, "but I think I found the next best thing."

Bruce frowned. Next best thing? What the hell did that-

"Hello, Bruce."

Bruce's heart medication made sure that his heart-rate didn't slow down too much, and cause him to have another myocardial infarction.

No danger of that now – his heart was pounding. Not trusting himself to look, he didn't turn around. "Princess." God, did he have to sound passionless _all_ of the time?

When she spoke again, her voice was disappointed. Dimly, he realised Terry had left. "I'd say something like 'long time no see', but apparently you'd rather it had stayed that way."

"No," he said quickly. "Not at all." _Just turn around, for the love of God turn around._

He heard her step closer. "So why won't you look at me?"

He tried to stop them, he really did, but all he managed to do was lower the volume of his words. "Because I won't be able to stop if I do." He may as well have yelled them – the echoes in the Cave magnified every syllable.

She moved closer, stopping right next to him. He still hadn't so much as glanced her way. She stretched out a hand to his face, and his eyes closed at her touch. He'd remembered right – twenty years and he still hadn't forgotten how her touch felt. Hadn't embellished how wonderful it was. "Bruce. Look at me."

He let her turn his face to hers, and then opened his eyes. And realised what every photograph had been missing. Her warmth. Her living, breathing essence. And Diana was all about warmth. Just being in her gaze was like being plunged into a hot bath. And a picture was literally a moment frozen in time. Nothing about Diana could ever be frozen.

"Diana..."

She smiled. "It's good to see you, Bruce."

He searched her eyes, and did not find pity. Did not find sympathy. He found forgiveness. He found- He did not dare think the word. "I missed you," he said.

She ran her fingers along his jaw. "I missed you."

"Don't go, Diana. Don't leave again."

The smile disappeared. "Is that what you want, Bruce?"

He turned his head, pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, and heard her intake of breath. "It's what I've always wanted."

She nodded. "Then I'll stay."

Her hand in his, they went up to the manor together. "You do realise," she began, "with me around there'll be a lot more reminiscing about old times."

He squeezed her hand. "That's okay. I've been feeling rather nostalgic lately."

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	39. Circles

**A/N: This one-shot has not been written by me - I've betaed it, but other than that, it's entirely the work of TheMightyErrg - so when you get to the end, address your reviews to him. I'm sure you're going to love this is much as I did, and I want to take this opportunity to say thank you for letting me include this in **_**Sushi Ocean. **_

**Circles**

After years of living in man's world there were still so many things she just did not understand.

One thing in particular was man's apparent all-consuming obsession with a woman's breasts.

Of course, as a woman she had them. She understood their biological function. As an Amazon it was doubtful she ever would have use of them in that regard, even if a few of her sisters had (a very long time ago), but that was beside the point.

For an Amazon they served no practical purpose.

Personally, she could not see the fascination – they were there, they bounced, they flopped, they got in the way when one tried to sleep on one's stomach. Not to mention how sweaty and uncomfortable that area could get after a battle.

Still...

Right now, lying in an unbelievably comfortable bed curled up against Bruce's warmth, half-asleep, half-satiated and half-aroused – funny considering last night's (and well into the morning hours, she grinned to herself) activities. If he kept doing things like _that_, then _oh_ Great Hera she might be have to declare herself convinced they were indeed the greatest gift from the gods... ever!

Lying on one of his strong arms with her back pressed close into his chest, the free hand was tracing ever-so-slow, incredibly tender, barely there yet unquestionably, phenomenally pleasant circles along her breast. His fingers, those damnable, wonderful fingers, were tracing feather-light circles of fire on the underside of one of them...

A fingernail caught the nipple, sending a jolt of languid electricity straight down to the apex of her thighs.

She could feel his smirk against her back when she gasped at the sensation.

His other hand had reached around to bush aside her raven locks as to expose the sensitive skin of her neck. Once accessed he proceeded to place searing-hot butterfly kisses up and down any exposed area he could reach.

Her barely conscious mind thought about kissing him or returning the caresses, or making some type movement or _something_, but she was just far too relaxed to even try, enjoying the feeling as his ministrations pushed her ever further into that bliss she could only find in his arms.

Her mind also touched onto the thought that maybe she should be angry with him. After all it was not appropriate for him to fondle her while she slept, regardless of their relations. However, given her current state of being... she decided to let that rest for later. _Much_ later...

After he stopped with the circles.

---

**A/N: Review please! I hope you loved it as much as I did! **


	40. Pirates

**A/N: Back to me again! Hope you're not disappointed ;) **

**Pirates**

Diana firmly blamed Johnny Depp for her current predicament. She'd enjoyed _Pirates of the Caribbean _as much as the next person - it was a funny film, who wouldn't? - but _this _was ridiculous. She still didn't really understand how it had happened.

The man in front of her seemed to honestly believe he was Jack Sparrow. And when told that he wasn't, his only response had been, "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow, love, _Captain_."

As soon as she could move, Diana was going to enjoy kicking the captain right out of him.

However, she couldn't, because he (or a member of his crew, she wasn't sure) had bound her to the mast in the cargo hold with her own lasso. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but somehow being kidnapped by a man who honestly believed himself to be an eighteenth-century pirate was far more humiliating than being held captive by Thanagarians.

How had this _happened_?

She'd been on a mission with Vixen, in Hawaii, dealing with Killer Frost. It had been the work of two and a half minutes to put her away, but then Mari had turned and pointed out that since they were here, it would be a shame to waste the sun and sea. Out of _somewhere_ her team-mate had produced two swimsuits, and the two women had gone for a dip in the Pacific.

Then the last thing she remembered was Mari screaming her name, then everything going black. Then she had woken here. Still in her red bikini.

She hoped Vixen was alright - it made sense that if they'd kept her alive then they probably hadn't harmed Mari. Other than that, she had no idea - Mari could be in the next room or she could have gotten away to seek help.

To top it all off, Jack Sparrow had removed her com-link, so she had no way of being tracked. Still, as long as she was conscious, she could call for J'onn. As she had already done. Ten minutes ago. She was expecting the roar of Javelin engines any second now.

She didn't get that. What she did get, however, was the sound of thumps coming from the deck above. Thumps that sounded a lot like crew members hitting the floor unexpectedly. _Well let's see... _

Them hitting the deck rather than crashing through it ruled out Superman.

If Flash was here, she would have been liberated by a scarlet streak by now.

Shayera's roars of anger would also have been audible.

She hadn't heard the telltale sound of John's ring.

In fact apart from the odd _thump _- there it went again - there was no noise at all. Which meant... Diana's narrowed eyes at the man in front of her turned into a somewhat vicious grin. _Oh you are in so much trouble now..._

He drew his cutlass and pointed at her with a wink she assumed was meant to be roguish. "Wait here, love, back in a mo."

The princess rolled her eyes as he walked up the steep stairs to the deck, dreadlocks swinging. She estimated about ten seconds before he came tumbling back down again.

Nine point six seconds later, an unconscious Johnny Depp impersonator was forcibly ejected down from the deck, and rolled to a stop at her feet. She kicked him once for good measure, and then looked up at the booted footsteps following Jack Sparrow.

"I know, I know. Pirates - believe me, I'm embarrassed enough."

The dark knight's chuckle was positively delighted. "Really? So no need to mention the lasso or the bikini then?"

She glowered, trying to make it clear that their blossoming relationship was on fragile ground if he carried on teasing. "No, Bruce, there isn't."

He nodded. "I won't then. And technically since I boarded them, _I'm _the pirate."

Mmm, now _that _wasn't an unpleasant thought at all. In fact, dress _Bruce _in one of those loose linen shirts... She let the grin cross her face at the thought, but then frowned when she realised he was making no move to release her.

"Batman? Want to let me out of this?"

"Hmm... I'm just thinking whether or not - as a self-respecting pirate - I really should. After all, how many beautiful, bikini-clad women am I going to get around me?"

"Well as a _newly-single _Bruce Wayne, quite a few I'd imagine!" she retorted.

He smirked. "Relax, Princess." He moved closer to her and kissed her, his hands reaching around her body to untie the lasso. He caught it before it fell to the ground and handed it to her. "Better?"

"Almost," she whispered, winding her arms around his shoulders and kissing him properly. After they were both throughly out of breath, she let go. "Now I'm better."

"Good. Except we have a problem."

She frowned. "We do?"

He nodded. "Come up on deck and see."

A few seconds later, Diana emerged blinking into the sunlight. There was no sign of the surely-unconscious pirates, or anybody else. "How did you get here?"

"Teleport."

"Where are the kidnappers?" she asked, knowing that he never would have slung them over the side to drown.

He pointed, and she looked to see a lifeboat had been cut loose, and was now floating some distance away. "I've put a tracking device on the boat. The League should be coming to collect them. I intend us to be far from here when they do."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well... this is a rather nice yacht," he pointed out.

"True," she conceded.

"And I'm sure her owner will wanting her back."

"And naturally you know where her owner is."

He smirked. "Naturally."

"Are you going to enlighten me?"

"Monte Carlo. Which means..." He ran a finger down the side of her face, down her neck and then lightly over the curve of her breast, "... that you're stuck in the company of this pirate for the amount of time it will take to sail to Monaco."

She grinned and pushed back his cowl. "Which will take how long?"

It was his turn to grin. "Oh, a week or so, depending on the weather..."

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	41. White

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! **

**White **

Diana frowned at the window. Or more specifically, _out _of it. At the snow that was gently cascading down. To settle, depressingly, on the ground, and colour it the same shade as the white cocktail dress she was wearing.

It wasn't the snow's fault she wanted to get out of the manor, she supposed. And normally she'd be thrilled by the first snowfall of the year - she'd only been gone from Themyscira three years, after all, and the novelty of the winter weather had not worn off yet. But _why _did it have to start snowing tonight, of all evenings? What was wrong with tomorrow?

_I am not sure a snowball would last long in the fire-pits of Tartarus, my friend. _

She glanced over a J'onn, her fellow guest at Wayne Manor, with a small smirk. _That _is _rather the point. _

The Martian smiled, but then shut his book. "You did not seem very excited about your date this evening," he noted.

"It's not the date I'm annoyed about," she replied, getting off the window seat and sitting opposite him. "I was just looking forward to getting out of here."

"Why so?"

Diana cast him a sly look. J'onn of all people knew exactly why. _Things are just getting too tense. J'onn, we can't even look at one another anymore, just through being here. I'll be glad when the Watchtower's rebuilt, I'm certain of that. _

_No, Diana, you're not. _

Diana's mouth twisted, but she amended her previous mental statement. _Alright, we can't make eye-contact. _Aphrodite only knew how exponentially the amount of looks she'd been stealing at Bruce had increased. He knew. He had to know - he was _Batman _for Hera's sake. And it was that which had caused the tension to fill the air in the manor like smoke.

Because Bruce was looking at her too. Oh, she hadn't caught him at it, but occasionally her skin would prickle, or the hairs on her arms and neck would stand up in a most pleasant way. Neither of them had said anything about it, and it was starting to drive Diana insane. Sometimes she wanted to scream at him to just do something already, or she'd have no choice but to tear out her eyeballs. Or his.

Tonight would have provided an escape route from that tension, even for a few hours. There'd been a charity auction last week in Metropolis, of which she was the guest of honour. It was a silent auction, star attraction - her, or rather a dinner date with her. She'd have no idea who'd won it until she turned up at the restaurant.

Except now, it seemed, turning up at the restaurant was off the agenda. She'd have to call the organiser of the auction and tell her that she wasn't going to be able to make it today. She'd be happy to reschedule at another time. Like tomorrow. As soon as the blanket of white outside had melted.

She sighed. "Okay, so I'm not sure I want to leave right now. But, J'onn, what's the point if all we do is _look _at each other?"

He was silent, but nodded. "Then what do you propose to do?"

"What _can _I do? He won't do anything, and if I-"

The clock opened behind J'onn, and she cut herself off. Bruce came through it, fiddling with a cufflink. He looked up, nodded to the empty space between them, then glanced at the window. Cursed. "Damn, I was hoping to be gone by the time this started." He looked back down at his sleeve and cursed again. "Damn cufflinks, why buttons aren't good enough..."

Diana stood and caught his wrist. "Let me," she said, fixing her gaze on his hand. She wondered what that hand would feel like sliding over her skin, fingers intertwining with hers-

She wasn't sure if her face was burning because of her thoughts or because of the fact that he was looking at her face, she could see in the periphery of her vision. "I hate these things," he muttered. "But Alfred insists."

She smiled. "I'm sure he just wants you to look presentable," she said, fixing her eyes on the brilliant white of his shirt, "for your... date?"

"Yeah," he said tightly. "Date. Guess that's off the cards for now."

She nodded, then summoned her courage at a mental nudge from J'onn. Who had somehow phased from the room. "So is mine," she said, straightening and looking him full in the face.

To her surprise, he didn't back down from her gaze. "I know."

She blinked. "You know?" she echoed.

"Yes," he said. Then suddenly he looked embarrassed. "It was with me."

Another blink. "Really?" Inwardly, she cursed the hopeful note that had suddenly appeared in her voice.

He nodded. "Really. I won the auction."

"Oh. Bruce..."

"What?"

"We see each other every day," she pointed out. "If you wanted to spend time with me..."

"I know," he replied. "But lately things here have been getting really... tense."

She smiled nervously. "You noticed that too, huh?"

He nodded. "I thought we'd break it if we went... elsewhere."

She smirked. "Elsewhere?" Motioning to the window with her head, she continued. "I don't think it's going to be tonight."

"No," he agreed. He walked over to the window, pulling his hand out of her grasp. Her palm felt suddenly cold. Bruce gestured at the expanse of white covering the grounds. "We could probably get into the city, but getting back..."

She levitated a couple of inches with a smile. "I don't know if you've heard... but I can sort of fly."

---

Five minutes later, the last Martian smiled as his two friends, Bruce with his arm around Diana's waist, drifted up into the sky. He watched until they were lost, fading into the white.

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	42. Garden

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! This one is stupidly sweet - to the point of actually being sticky. Not sure I'm happy with it, but there you go. Dedicated to Angel Queen :) **

**Garden**

Her hair was the only dark thing in the garden. In early summer, the grass was an emerald green, the sky a light blue, and the flowers a riot of colour in their neatly-groomed beds. Reds, blues, golds, oranges, purples and pinks everywhere, the sun beating down and a light breeze providing a perfect relief from the heat. A perfect day.

Bruce didn't notice. He wouldn't have noticed if there was a thunderstorm going on. His entire attention was focused on the streak of night that was Diana's hair in the walled Rose Garden. Black as midnight, but still somehow shining with the stairs. God, he loved that hair.

Right, he still had _it_ in his pocket — where it had been for the last week — so it was time. Perfect setting. Lovely day, scent of roses in the air, and no doubt Alfred had some champagne already being chilled. So: now was good.

When he slipped into the Rose Garden a few minutes later, Diana's back was to him as she bent over a pale pink rose with a soft golden centre.

"What's it called?" he whispered in her ear.

The princess literally leapt ten feet into the air.

"Great Hera, Bruce, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

He grinned up at her. "Just a little bit."

"Well a simple 'good afternoon' will suffice in future," she laughed breathlessly, sinking back to earth.

"In that case..." he took her hand and pulled her the rest of the way toward him, closing the gap between their lips, "... good afternoon."

She grinned. "Much better greeting."

He kissed her cheek. "Going to answer my question?" he asked, gesturing at the rose.

She smiled and interlaced their fingers. "It's a hybrid. Called 'Diana, Princess of —"

"You have a rose named after you?"

"No, actually, it's named after Diana, Princess of Wales."

"Ah, I see." Feeling it was now or never, Bruce swallowed hard. "Actually, Diana, I have another question for you."

"Yes?" she asked, attention back on pruning the rose in front of her.

He took her hand, then took the box out of his pocket. And then knelt. Diana, watching now, looked on with wide eyes. "Bruce..."

He opened the box, but her eyes didn't leave his. "Marry me?"

Her grin was completely joyful. Nothing else; no triumph or hesitation. Just simple happiness. "Yes," she said surely. "Yes."

Also grinning now, he put the ring on her finger and stood up. She grabbed his shirt, pulled him forward and kissed him passionately. When they broke apart, he grinned somewhat dazedly around the grounds. "Nice garden."

Diana laughed.

---

**A/N: Review please! **


	43. Revenge

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Here is the next one-shot. Now as most of you know by now, I'm going to do a sequel to **_**What Happens In Oklahoma. **_**In fact I'm going to do two. This is a snap-shot of something that happens between parts two and three, and doesn't give anything away, so enjoy! **

**Revenge**

"You're no fun, you know that?"

At the voice — whiny even for a five year old — Sarah Wayne looked up with her best batglare face on. "Whatever."

"_Seriously_," Michaela Kent persisted. "Why don't you come play?"

She had played. She, Kyra, Isabelle and Iris had played football against Jonathan, Nicky and Rex while Miss 'girls-shouldn't-play-football' Michaela had sat out. Nicky had cheated, which had led to Sarah hitting him, which had led to him complaining, which had led to Mommy breaking their fight up. Then making them apologise to each other.

"Because I'm _busy_ — and this is my house," she explained slowly, unsure if someone as stupid as Michaela would understand. "I play in it everyday. Just because _you _don't get to play with toys that use electricity..." she muttered, casting a look at the ridiculous stuffed Superman bear that Michaela insisted on carrying _everywhere_. It wasn't even useful, like her laptop.

Unlike Sarah and her brother, brought up in Gotham, the Kent twins had been raised in Smallville mainly by their grandparents — it was safer considering their strength and other abilities than Metropolis was. But that didn't mean they had to like it. Well, she knew Jonathan didn't anyway.

The fact that Michaela _did _was utterly incomprehensible to Sarah. Who'd want to live in the _country_ when there were places like Gotham?

Ignoring Michaela's blank face, Sarah went back to her laptop, and trying to solve the riddle Daddy had set her.

The younger girl interrupted again. "Your house is too big, you know."

Sarah bit her tongue. Until the younger girl insulted her city. "And so is Gotham. And it's really _dirty_, and —"

"Look," Sarah snapped, "it's okay, I understand how overwhelming the big city can be. All those bright lights — it must be confusing for you. But for the love of _Hera, _go away, and _leave me alone_."

Michaela responded by turning away, and then accidentally-on-purpose tripping and upending her drink over Sarah's laptop. Nothing happened for a second, then the screen flickered and sparks flew up from the keyboard. With a beleaguered wheezing noise, the whole thing died.

"Ooooops! Gosh, I'm sorry..."

For a moment Sarah just stared at it. How could it be dead? Her laptop was her baby, it couldn't be- It was just- just... _dead_. She felt tears well up. She hadn't cried in more than a year, but her baby was gone and that _imbecile _had been the one to kill it!

Throwing aside the once-beloved machine, she threw herself with blind rage at Michaela. And bounced off. It was like hitting a brick wall. Damn Kryptonians! Now she had another reason to cry — it felt like she'd broken her fist.

Her laptop was dead, she was angry as hell at Michaela, and her hand hurt. And there was only one person who could make those things better. "_Daddy_!"

Except even though Daddy believed her, all the other adults didn't. In fact they all told her not to ruin Iris and Isabelle's birthday by carrying on with her 'tantrum'. Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon snivelling into Daddy's shoulder. It just wasn't fair. She told him as much.

"I know, sweetie, but I'll get you a new one —"

"But I was so close to figuring out the riddle, and, Daddy, she did it on purpose!"

He lifted her chin, kissed her forehead. "I know, Sarah, but there's nothing we can do about it. So we'll go get you a new one after the party's over, alright? Michaela's apologised, so why not just enjoy the rest of the day, huh? For Iris and Isabelle."

Isabelle chose that moment to skid to a stop in front of Bruce and Sarah, a soda in her outstretched hand and her red hair swinging around her face as it caught up to the rest of her. She offered the drink to the blonde girl. "C'mon, Sarah, Iris and Nick want to play a board game, and I want you on my team. Please?"

After receiving an encouraging nod from Daddy, she climbed off his lap and took Isabelle's hand, moving into the games room. She shot a poisonous look at Michaela as she passed, which the dark-haired girl returned with a triumphant smirk. Sarah narrowed her eyes. This was _so _not over.

Michaela found that out, hours later when they were all finally ready to go to bed. She only went to the bathroom for a few minutes, but when she got back to her sleeping bag... She let out a bloodcurdling scream that brought all the adults running.

In her bedroom with Iris, Isabelle and Kyra; she'd naturally refused to allow Michaela in — "Laptop killers are not allowed in my room!" — Sarah smirked against her pillow.

Kyra turned her head. "What did you do?" she whispered, looking delighted.

Michaela's favourite bear, complete with it's shiny Superman uniform, had had its head shaved, and been dressed in a neat, pressed suit. It was even smirking in an evil fashion.

Sarah's last thought, before she drifted off into a satisfied slumber, was that revenge was as sweet as the birthday cake Alfred had made for Iris and Isabelle.

---

**A/N: Let that be a lesson to all of you - never underestimate Sarah Wayne! Lol review please! **


	44. If

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They really helped me shape how Oklahoma Part Two is going to look. Enjoy!**

**If**

A lot of things are dependent on our choices. I've always believed that. Though I know that our lives are shaped by the gods, I would still like to think I have some measure of control over my life. Well, to say _our _lives are shaped... perhaps that isn't quite right. The gods have shaped _my _life, just as they shaped my birth, but sometimes, when I think about Bruce... Sometimes I think they wouldn't dare.

But sometimes I hope they would.

Lady Aphrodite came to me in a dream once. She showed me all the paths my life might take. She told me that I would not remember my visions until the 'right time' came. I had them when I was twenty years old — barely out of childhood. I had no inkling then of what my life would bring, where my destiny lay.

She took me to the beach that my mother and I liked to ride on together, and sure enough, there we were. My horse was restless. Hearing one's own voice without actually speaking is a disconcerting experience at first, and I was shocked to say the least.

"These omens don't bode well, Mother. Mankind may be facing its darkest hour."

My mother's reply was simple. "Then mankind will have to face it alone."

"How can you say that?"

"Whatever happens beyond these shores is not our concern. Here the gods will protect us."

"I hope you're right."

My goddess turned to me. "Here is the first of the choices you will make, Diana. Your mother is quite right — you both are. Mankind _is _facing its darkest hour, but we _will _protect you. If you choose to stay on Themyscira, then the Amazons will remain as they have done for millennia. If you should choose to go, then you will face the darkest hour of mankind with them."

"What do the Fates say I am to do?"

Lady Aphrodite did not answer me that day, except with her kind, knowing smile.

Another moment; an embossed invitation to a ball in a city called Paris. I'd only ever heard of 'Paris' as a Trojan prince, but somehow I _knew_ this city. Just as I knew the man in whose arms _I _would be dancing if I went.

I did not know how this instance was a moment of destiny. It seemed so... ordinary. Aside from the revelation that I could enjoy such physical closeness with a man, we had dances on Themyscira. But somehow, deciding whether or not to go would be a defining moment in my life. My life, not that of the world or the Amazons, but _my _life.

I turned to the Lady of Love with a questioning eyebrow. "This is a choice of your heart, Diana."

"My heart? I don't understand."

She smiled. "I am the goddess of love, Diana, and your patron. I wis to see you happy."

"And this — this _man _will provide that?"

"Perhaps."

It was the second time she had not answered me, but who was I to question the gods?

Then we were looking at myself again, facing a giant machine, not I have never seen the like; controlled by a fierce intelligence and evil to the core. And I was simply... standing there. "If you fight, you will die."

I was aghast. "But I am an Amazon! Fighting is what I was created to do, all I know!"

"Then you must learn new things, Diana. You are graced with the wisdom of my sister as well as her warrior tendencies. If you can learn wisdom, you will triumph."

It changed once more, to a rooftop. Myself and the man I had seen earlier, only he was wearing armour of his own. I took some small comfort in that. A warrior, at least. I turned to Aphrodite. "Another test of the heart?"

"In a way. A test of your courage too."

"Don't you ever wish you were down there?"

My voice drew my attention once again. Then _his _voice. Even then, it caused a thrill to run through me. "I'm down there all I need to be."

"Yes, but it's just a job to you. I'm talking about going down there and having some fun. Maybe — Maybe with someone special."

Nothing but silence from the male. Perhaps he did not speak all that much. I could not imagine desiring constant silence in a mate.

"No. No dating for the Batman. It might cut into your brooding time."

"One — dating within the team always leads to disaster. Two — you're a princess from a society of immortal warriors, I'm a rich kid with issues. Lots of issues. And three, if my enemies knew I had someone special, they wouldn't rest until they'd gotten to me through her."

I could not help laughing aloud, my goddess with me. Apparently in the future — if it ever did become the future — I would find it equally amusing, since I watched as my older self simply crushed the nearest stone object to powder. "Next?" she enquired with a smirk.

I turned to Aphrodite. "I do not understand. Where is the courage in that?"

Her smile was kind. "You do not yet know love, Diana, but believe me when I tell you that it can be one of the most terrifying things in the world."

"But what is 'dating'?"

"Courtship," she told me.

"Oh."

"If you choose to stay silent, then your chance at love will pass unnoticed."

"My only chance?"

She smiled. "With your heart's true keeper, yes. But you are not made for loneliness, Diana. Love will always find you, from one source or another."

"But you favour this man?"

"Your soul favours this man."

"Then if I tell him how I... may one day feel... what will happen?"

My only answer was an enigmatic smile and an awakening to the dawn.

And it is only now, as I stand before Bruce, waiting, that I remember that dream, those visions.

Because the choice is no longer mine. I have made all the decisions that will lead me to this moment; I left my home. I went to Paris and danced. And I opened my heart, in however veiled a way. I can do no more. The choice is his now.

I must wait and see... if he will love me.

**---**

**A/N: Review please! **


	45. Deliverance

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Here's the next one, hope you enjoy. It's set just after _The Doomsday Sanction_**** :)**

**Deliverance**

The doors hiss open quietly. For a moment she stands in the doorway, not coming in, just looking at him. He never looks relaxed, even when he sleeps. There's a tiny frown that never quite goes away. Thinking with his eyes closed. She's often wondered if he ever actually rests at all.

Still, at the moment she knows he isn't really asleep. So she speaks. "Can't you have even a little faith in him?"

His eyes, dark in the gloomy room, snap open, find her face. She allows her eyes to trace every line of his body; keeping a mental tally of how many scars, bruises and bandages she comes across. There are far too many for him to still be alive.

Yet here he is, thank the gods, being alive.

His answer is stark. "No."

"It wasn't an easy choice."

"It shouldn't have _been _a choice."

"What was the alternative, Bruce?" she asks, coming in.

Silence. It is typical of him, and while she can cope with it, Clark gets utterly defeated by his damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't attitude. It wasn't fair of him to bring up the Justice Lords. He knows how much it still haunts Clark.

She moves inside, sits on the edge of his bed and begins changing the bandages wrapped around his hand. He watches her do it silently. "_Why _can't you have faith in him?"

Another silence, but this one is expectant. She's not going to let him get away with not answering her. Finally he sighs, and contradicts himself. "I do."

"But?" she asks, taking an antiseptic wipe and cleaning the wounds on his damaged knuckles. Neither of them acknowledge the fact that it has to sting.

"He can't know I do."

Her hands pause. "So you're deliberately making him doubt himself?"

"He needs to."

Her hands go on the move again, picking up a sterile bandage and unwrapping it. "He won't fall into the same trap, Bruce. He's not their Superman. He's ours."

"As long as he thinks I'm always watching him, he'll stay that way. I lapsed today, Princess. He got too close."

There doesn't seem to be much she can say to that. So she winds the bandage around his hand, a little more tightly than she would have done if he hadn't made Clark look utterly tiny. She wasn't born in this world, but by now she understands the concept; and he really _did _look like a chastised Boy Scout.

"He deserves to have your confidence."

"He deserves it as long as he doesn't think he does. I'm not-" He cuts himself off.

She puts the bandages down, but keeps hold of his hand. "You're not?"

"Not going to make the same mistakes _he _did."

It clicks. This isn't about Clark. It's never been about Clark. The Lords, yes, but not Superman. This is about the failure of Lord Batman. About how he failed _his _Superman. Bruce isn't about to make that mistake.

And if supporting Clark means treating him as though he is an apocalypse waiting to happen, then so be it. She really should have known.

It's how Bruce treats the people he cares about.

She gives him back his hand, but slides her boots off, then swings her legs up and lies beside him. Gently, she reaches out and brushes a strand of black hair from his forehead. "It isn't Clark you do not have faith in," she states quietly.

His eyes leave hers: a gesture of surrender that would be inconceivable were she anyone else.

"But that doesn't matter," she continues, stroking down the side of his face. "Because there's always the three of us. We're a team, Bruce. You, me and Kal." She smiles. "So you have faith in him...and I'll have faith in you."

He can't help himself; despite the pain he's still in, or maybe because of it, he returns her smile. "You will, won't you?"

She leans forward, kisses his mouth softly, warmly. "I always have."

He closes his eyes, feeling that maybe they'll be okay, the League and Clark and him. The possibility of the Justice Lords is an evil one – but Diana can deliver them from evil.

* * *

**A/N: Review please! **


	46. Chocolate

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Here's the next one. **

**Chocolate **

There are many types of chocolate. French, British, Swiss, Belgian. White, milk, dark. There are those with twenty percent cocoa solids, and those with eighty. There are gourmet, filled fancies that cost upwards of a thousand dollars a kilo. There are cheap, mass-produced brands that taste of chalk and soap.

Bruce always liked those kinds. Up to the age of eight, and then — like everything that reminded him of his childhood — he switched to not eating chocolate at all. It was good to keep abreast of the changes in the chocolate industry anyway — to keep the dates he didn't care about happy.

But it wasn't until he married Diana that he truly began to appreciate chocolate again.

The melted kind, anyway.

* * *

_Beeeeeeep! _

_Finally! _Brimming with impatience by this point, Bruce almost yanked the microwave door off. Then burnt his fingers on the pyrex bowl. "Ow!" he hissed, pulling them back reflexively.

"Ahem."

The billionaire froze, then turned very slowly to see Alfred holding an oven mitt out to him. "If I might recommend you use some protection, Master Bruce." His expression did not change, and his tone remained deadpan. "For your hand."

Refusing to admit that heat was crawling up his face, Bruce took the thick glove and took the melted chocolate out of the microwave. He was very conscious of Alfred still watching him inscrutably, though he could _hear _the Englishman inwardly chuckling.

Damn it, it was happening again. He was going to babble, any second now- "Diana...um, she wanted...chocolate fondue, and as a matter of fact, I was just looking for the strawberries-"

His butler nodded imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth visible twitching now. "Indeed, sir. You'll find them in the refrigerator. Next to the chocolate sauce." He moved out of the kitchen, pausing at the door to add, "And the whipped cream."

* * *

**A/N: Review please!**


	47. Beach

**A/N: Not the scheduled word, but **_**Rescue **_**is proving a tough nut to crack. Thank you for all the reviews! **

**Beach **

It wasn't fair.

Bruce had decided it wasn't fair a good three days earlier, but it was _especially _not fair now. It was just supposed to be a nice, relaxing vacation. Between the two of them. Just Bruce and Diana in the Bahamas.

Somehow that had turned into a group vacation to his private Caribbean island, thus pretty much eliminating any chance he had of fulfilling his plans. Skinny-dipping with the aforementioned Amazon was officially off the agenda. He watched as Wally raced into the ocean, diving head-first into the waves.

How had this _happened_?

"Bruce?"

He turned his head to see the raven-haired goddess he _had _been planning on spending most of the week kissing lying on her front. She held out a bottle. "Put some lotion on my back?" she asked.

Okay, she was _aiming _for sultry now.

Nevertheless, he took the bottle and squirted some white liquid onto her back, then began massaging it in. She let out a ridiculously sexy noise. "Mmmm, that feels good..."

She did it again, and he bent low in the pretense of rubbing it into her shoulders. "You know you're going to pay for this later, don't you?" he breathed lowly in her ear.

She turned her head to steal a quick kiss. "Is that a threat?" she murmured.

He nipped her earlobe quickly. "A promise, Princess."

He pulled back just in time, as a Flash-shaped shadow stopped above them. Bruce glared; he was dripping water over his sun-lounger. Wally didn't seem perturbed. "Hey, Bats, what factor is that?"

Bruce checked. "Twenty five," he said.

"Bummer." At Bruce's questioning eyebrow, he elaborated. "I need factor fifty at least, and I forgot it. It's the red hair." He sighed. "I'll go asked Jeeves if he has any."

"His name is-" He was already gone. "-Alfred..." Bruce sighed. He looked at Diana. "Am I the only one regretting saying 'yes' to Shayera?"

"It wasn't quite what I had in mind," she admitted.

About a week ago, John and Mari had broken up. Rather publicly. In the middle of the commissary. Shayera - wisely - had decided that she should make herself scarce. She asked if she could go with them to the Caribbean - assuring Bruce that she would most definitely remain on the opposite side of the island for the entire week.

Fine.

The fact that she and John had then gotten back together almost immediately (Bruce had a sneaky suspicion they'd been reunited for a while, and that quite possibly Vixen was the last to know), had then meant that John was invited along too.

J'onn had never been on a real vacation before.

Clark was planning on proposing to Lois next week, and needed a break to gather his nerves. Apparently.

How the _hell _Wally had managed to invite himself along, Bruce had no clue. He blamed Diana's generous nature. Far too generous. They'd have to work on that in future.

What should have been seven days of sun, sea and sand was now polluted by _other _people on _his _beach.

And so far, in a week that he'd envisaged doing almost nothing but making love to his princess, eating and occasionally swimming, Bruce had managed the latter two, but only the first (and most important action) twice. And a lot of cold showers. It wasn't that Diana was an unwilling participant, but they kept getting interrupted by their so-called 'friends'.

"I have a plan, though," she smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She nodded. "You pretend you have sunstroke tonight, and me, being the wonderful, caring girlfriend I am, will offer to take care of you."

"Sunstroke," he repeated. "Diana, I've had broken bones and internal bleeding and not let either stop me. There's no way they're going to buy _sunstroke_."

"Oh they will," she said. "And it's not so hard a sell. After all, how often does that big bad Bat get out of his dank little cave?"

"I resent the 'little'," he smirked, "but I take your point."

She grinned. "And I imagine we could talk Alfred into cooking a full five course banquet for them. And to serve it slowly. Which would guarantee at least four or five hours of total privacy."

Bruce got up. "I need to go talk to Alfred."

* * *

Alfred needed a raise.

Not only had he come up with starter, fish, main, dessert and cheese courses, but he'd also added in canapés, an amuse-bouche and a pre-dessert in there too.

Bruce was pondering whether a million dollars was too excessive as Diana's head shifted from his chest to the pillow next to his. She grinned, still breathing hard. "If this is what no sex for three days does to you, maybe we should do it less often."

Before Diana could blink, she found herself being pinned to the mattress, arms above her head in a vice-like grip. "Take that back."

She kissed him. "I take it back." She rolled them over, straddling him. "I have an idea."

"What?"

"The dining room is on the opposite side of the villa to the beach, yes?"

"Yes."

She looked out of the open French doors, out to where the sounds of the ocean could be heard clearly. "And the water will be so warm... I imagine I won't even want to wear a bathing suit."

She got up. It didn't take Bruce long to follow her. Funny, but the sand that had seemed so unappetising glowing golden under the sun now seemed completely enchanting, glittering silver under the moon. Of course, that could have a lot to do with the laughing, beckoning warrior standing in the ocean.

After he'd obeyed the call - at least another three times before the others were finished with dinner - Bruce had decided he needed to invest in more beachfront properties.

Diana shifted closer in her sleep, a very satisfied smile on her face. Bruce kissed her forehead and closed his own eyes.

_A lot more. _

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Review please! **


	48. Rescue

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, and thank you so so much to both chaosmob and Angel Queen - you're both **_**stars**_**.**

**Rescue**

Diana rang the doorbell still annoyed. He'd done this before, cancelled on her or turned up late, and she understood. When Gotham called, he answered. Fair enough. But to stand her up altogether-! _That _she wouldn't tolerate. She was Princess of the Amazons, and he would treat her as such.

After a few seconds, Alfred opened the door. "Good afternoon, Miss Diana."

"Hello, Alfred."

He stepped aside, and she went inside. "Is he in the Cave?" she asked, heading there with her spine ramrod straight and her fists balled.

There was a silence. "I beg your pardon, miss?"

She turned. "Bruce. Where is he?"

Alfred's face went pale. "I assumed...he was with you."

"What?" she breathed. "No, I... We had dinner reservations at the Ritz, but he didn't show. Where did he say he was going?"

The Englishman was still ashen. "Master Bruce went out to meet you... at lunchtime. He said he'd received a message from you to meet earlier."

Diana felt the blood begin to drain from her own visage. "I didn't send him a message."

"Oh my lord."

Diana put a hand to her com-link. "Wonder Woman to Batman. Batman, come in!"

Nothing but static. Okay, still no point in panicking. She tried Oracle - but Barbara had no idea where he was either. That left J'onn. Even if there was no technological way to track him, J'onn should still be able to sense Bruce's mind.

She put her hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Don't worry, Alfred. We'll find him. I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."

He nodded, and she spun into her uniform. "Watchtower - transport me up _now_."

In a flash of light, she appeared on the Watchtower. Without wasting time with the turbolift, she simply flew upward to the monitor room. J'onn was, as normal, there coordinating missions.

"J'onn!"

Sensing her worry, the Martian turned around with concern on his face. "Diana. What is it?"

"Can you locate Bruce? He's missing," she said quickly.

He stopped what he was doing and put his hands to the sides of his head, eyes glowing. He put them down a few moments later with a sombre expression on his face. "I cannot. I do not sense him anywhere."

Diana swore in a language J'onn did not understand, but caught the meaning of anyway. "Contact Superman," she said. "Then Nightwing, Robin and Oracle. Tell them all that Batman is-"

She only blinked - but suddenly she was standing in a whole different part of the world. Or rather _under _it. She stood before the gates of Tartarus, a lone female figure in front of her.

She blinked. What on Earth was she doing _here_, of all places - the one location in the world Bruce _could not _be?!

She squinted, recognising the Amazon. She stood facing away from Diana, but with that distinctive scar that stretched from shoulder to hip, she could only be one sister. "Phoebe?" she asked.

Expecting her sister to start and whip around with sword drawn, Diana was a little unsettled when Phoebe turned slowly. Her expression was guarded. "Highness." She swallowed. "Please understand, Princess, I never meant for you to be here-"

She frowned. "Phoebe, what-"

"I expected you, potentially, but I never-"

Diana held out a hand to her. "Phoebe, stop! _What _am I doing here? Why are _you _here?"

But the other woman would not, could not stop her babbling. "Please understand, Highness, I did this for your benefit-"

Diana's eyes widened, fear flooding her. Oh no. "Phoebe, what have you done?"

"He was a bad influence on you - there were whispers in the Senate of renewing your exile, that you had been irrevocably corrupted by Man's World-"

Diana grabbed her by the upper arms, her heart pounding. "What in Hera's name have you done to him?"

Phoebe shook her head. The princess was now beginning to think her sister was seriously deranged. "I am not proud of my choice, but I chose the lesser of two evils, and after all Lord Hades has done to us, to your mother, he said he wanted to recompense, could help-"

Diana felt every drop of blood in her veins turn to ice. She looked up at the huge doors. Bruce was in there. He was in the care of _Hades_. Shoving Phoebe to one side, she ran toward the gates, fully intent on smashing through them and hang the consequences. She did hit them, but not in the way she'd intended; Phoebe threw herself at Diana's back, causing the princess to crash against the doors.

"No! Please, Highness, see reason!'

Diana was on her feet in seconds, looping her lasso around her sister and slamming her into the wall. She was stunned, but not unconscious. Diana grabbed a handful of hair, "See stars!", and introduced Phoebe's face to the wall once more.

Dropping her onto the floor, Diana stood and faced the gates again. There was no room for nervousness - instead she ran full-tilt at them. She barely felt herself hit the stone and metal, but she felt the wall of heat and sulphur that came just after it. She didn't want to halt, but she had no choice; distance, light and objects were all in flux here, nothing was as it seemed, or had been a second ago. The only way to focus on a goal was to _not _focus on it, keep it in the periphery of her vision but not to look at it directly. Lady Persephone was obviously not here - when she was, things were not so hostile. Tartarus simply became the Underworld.

To that end, she kept the dark grey mass of Hades' palace in the corner of her eye and flew toward it as fast as she could, fury fuelling her. Wanting to recompense! How _dare _he interfere anymore than he already had done in her life?! But he'd regret this time. That, she swore.

The demons guarding Hades' throne room stood absolutely no chance of standing their ground. Diana didn't bother with taking them on one at a time, and only smashed their heads together, then dropped them into the nearest fiery chasm. When the doors burst open, Hades remained on his throne, looking for all the world relaxed.

Diana made sure he didn't stay relaxed for long - her hand had his neck in a vice-like grip before the god could inhale his next breath. "Where is he?!"

Hades had the gall to smile. "I wondered how long it would be before you arrived, my child. I must say you've surpassed my expectations for your speed."

Diana slammed him against the wall. "Answer me!"

"In the dungeon, naturally."

Ordinarily she would have beaten him to a bloody pulp; now she didn't have the time. She needed to get Bruce out of here, _now_. She contained her anger to only throwing him into the opposite wall. She got halfway to the stairs before his voice stopped her.

"He drank of the water."

Dread anchored her feet to the floor. "No!" she breathed, eyes wide.

Before, he had been taken prisoner unjustly, and therefore would be free to walk out of Tartarus as a free man. But if he had partaken of any food and drink while in the Underworld, he was bound to it forever... Unless released by Hades' mercy. And that was as likely as Themyscira undergoing an ice age.

She turned back to the god, this time with no air of hostility. The price would be terrible, she knew that. She also knew she'd pay anything. "What do you want?"

Hades stood, brushing himself off. "Nothing," he said airily.

"Nothing?" she questioned.

"Now, Diana, why would I break the heart of my only child?" he asked.

She shuddered, but didn't move or say anything to refute the claim, even if her heart was screaming against it. "So you'll let him go?"

"Of course. I only wish to be sure he is worthy of you."

"I am judge enough of that," she spat.

"Ah. So you love him," Hades assumed. "But does he love you?"

"That is none of your concern!" Diana yelled. "Now let him go!"

"I will... if he can prove he is worthy of you. If you can prove he loves you."

"Only he can do that," she said, her heart sinking. He'd never said it. She thought he was afraid to, afraid to admit to himself that maybe he could be happy. That didn't matter to Diana - she knew he loved her, she didn't need him to vocalise it. It would change nothing between them.

"Then he must," Hades said coolly. "He must tell you he loves you. Only then will I let him go."

Diana sighed. As prices went, it would seem almost free. But it would seem that way to anyone who did not know Bruce. He did nothing under duress, especially not anything emotional. Trying to force him to admit his love for her would be harder than forcing blood from a stone.

She nodded. "Very well."

She turned away with a heavy heart and a slower step. Hades' voice spoke casually from behind her. "Of course you might wish to move quickly; I cannot imagine you slowed Phoebe for long."

Diana let out a scream of rage and flew away.

When she reached the dungeons, it was not hard to identify Bruce's cell. It was the one with six fully-armed Amazons outside it. It seemed Phoebe had allies. The door stood ajar, and judging from the ranting and raving coming from inside, Phoebe was in there with Bruce. Diana prayed he was keeping her talking; if she was yelling, then she wasn't killing him.

Now she had to deal with the others. They, unlike Pheobe, looked a little unsure of themselves. She wondered if it was because her utter _rage_ was being transmitted through her eyes, or because of the sword in her hand that was still dripping demon blood.

She couldn't know that it was because the rumours and the whispers of centuries, the half-buried but always-there fears about their princess were shining, bright and terrible, right in front of them. Taking on their Champion had caused nervousness. Taking on a demi-god was causing unadulterated terror.

Diana stopped. Though her blood was still roaring in her ears, she had no desire to slaughter any more of her sisters than was necessary.

"Sisters, look at yourselves! You have entered Tartarus, the realm of your enemy, on a fool's errand!"

One of them stepped forward. She didn't care to remember the woman's name. "Highness, we are only here in order to save you from the corruption of that man-"

"That man is a hero of Themyscira, publicly declared so by the Queen in the presence of all of you! Attacking him means you attack the law of your sovereign, a crime punishable by your own demises!"

Their formerly-determined expressions faltered a little more, but Diana wasn't finished. "And let me warn you - should you decide to risk breaching the law, you will not have to risk the wrath of your Queen. I am sure mine will suffice." She stepped forward, raising her blade. "Make your choice, sisters."

Less than a minute later, Diana pushed open the door to the cell. Her heart lifted; Bruce's eyes met hers, his gaze steady and clear. He was alright. Or at least he would be once Phoebe had her blade pointed away from his throat.

Diana hefted her sword. "Your allies have deserted you, Phoebe. Now will you see reason and abandon this crusade?"

Phoebe bowed, but didn't remove her sword. "Because of the love I bear for you and your mother, Princess, I cannot."

Diana attacked. The fight didn't last long; Phoebe was an Amazon, a warrior born. She was not Champion. In less than two minutes, Diana's blade was at her throat, with the other woman on the floor and backed up against a wall. Diana took one step back, allowing her to stand. "Now leave," she hissed.

Phoebe took one step toward the door - then with a sudden movement, drew a dagger from within her armour, and aimed it at a certain part of Bruce both he and Diana would have greatly missed. Thankfully, Diana did not miss a beat; her sword swung up, cleanly slicing through Phoebe's arm. She allowed the woman to gasp in shock at the amount of blood pouring out of her for a moment before she slammed the hilt of her sword into her skull. Phoebe collapsed to the floor. Diana didn't spare her a second glance, and neither did Bruce.

His smile was breathless, but very relieved. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

Diana laughed. She took his face in her hands, kissed him deeply. "Thank you." She stepped back, tore apart his chains and took his hand. "Come. Let's go home."

He nodded. "My hero."

She grinned. "You can show me how grateful you are for the rescue once we get there."

---

**A/N: Review please!**


	49. Pursuit

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! **

**Pursuit**

His lungs burned, the air in them feeling acidic. Painful as taking a breath was, though, they weren't coming fast enough. He needed to get more air in so that he could run faster, so that he could get away-

Who was he kidding? He was never going to get away - he knew that. But the fear wouldn't let him stop. The fear kept his aching feet pounding the wet concrete. The fear kept his eyes scanning wildly for an escape.

A shadow flitted across the ground in front of him; his head snapped up to look for the shape in the Gotham sky. Nothing. Damn. _Never thought I'd miss the days it was just Batman..._

Now, though, there were two heroes pursuing him through the night.

He kept running.

* * *

From the rooftops, he was watched by two pairs of watchful eyes. They looked at one another, the man gestured to his female companion. She nodded, then left the rooftop, leaping for an alleyway they'd driven the thug into.

* * *

Shit!

He was trapped. It was an alleyway, dank, dark and could have been anywhere in the city - he had no idea where in Gotham he was. There was a loud crash from behind him; a dumpster that had been carelessly and casually thrown across the entrance.

No way out.

He backed up, heading for the wall - scared enough to climb it using fingernails and teeth if he had to - then there was the faintest of noises from behind him.

* * *

This was almost too easy. The dumpster had been easy to move, and the noise of crunching metal had always been particularly satisfying.

The second part of their team watched with a small, wry, smile. _Always showing off..._

* * *

He turned with enormous eyes to look into a masked face. It loomed over him, eyes narrowed to blank, white slits. It was a face capable of anything.

More footsteps, and the form at the entrance of the alley was equally terrifying. It didn't even occur to him to try and fight. He couldn't even run anymore. At the low chuckle, he turned back to the figure in black.

"Gotcha..."

Dimly, he registered what the hot liquid seeping from between his legs was. Then he passed out.

* * *

Nicholas Wayne looked with distaste at the man now lying on the floor. "Gross."

His sister wrinkled her nose and avoided the pool of urine as she bent to cuff him. "Take him to the police," she said.

Nick picked him up by the scruff of his neck. "Meet you in an hour?"

She nodded, then melted into a corner as shadowy as her nighttime identity.

An hour later, the twins met on the roof of St Patrick's church, Sarah rotated her wrist carefully. "Bad punch," she explained in answer to her brother's concerned look.

"Happens."

They both looked down at the street as a bachelorette party walked past in a haze of giggles and drunken chatter. Nick's gaze followed them, until he got an elbow in the side.

"What?" he complained. "I'm only human."

"Man-whore," she muttered.

Then a siren wailed. Sarah put her hand up to her com-link. "Location on that?"

Their father answered from the Cave. "_Fifth and Lexington. Armed robbery._"

They both leapt from the church roof. The pursuit was on again.

* * *

**A/N: Thought I'd give you a sneak preview of Oklahoma 3, despite the fact we're nowhere near done with 2. I couldn't reisist! Review please! **


	50. Ocean

**A/N: Three things: **

**Thank you for the reviews, thank you to everyone who kindly offered their prayers, and thank you for sticking with me throughout these drabbles. I hope you enjoy this last one. **

**Ocean **

Diana's first memory had always been of the ocean. It was not her mother's smile, or the smell of a flower; it was of the colour of the ocean, even before her infant eyes were focused enough to realise what it was.

She remained in love with that colour, all throughout her girlhood. Should she and Hippolyta ever argue, the ocean was always her retreat. She was never taught how to swim; she took to the water as if born from Poseidon.

Space, she'd always found, was lonely. Even living on board the Watchtower with her friends, it wasn't..._right_. She needed to be by the ocean, not tens of thousands of miles above it. It was a long time before she found the ocean again, but when she did, she felt _home_.

The problem was, her _home _was someone else's home. And he was not inclined to share it. For years, they went around in circles, endlessly dancing in a waltz Diana didn't know the steps to. But she saw something Bruce didn't.

She saw they were gradually moving closer. She saw that _sharing _was inevitable. And it didn't matter that she didn't have the ocean itself yet. Because she still had its colour every time she looked in his eyes.

But then something changed. The tide went out, and no matter the movements of the moon, the ocean remained obstinately out of her reach. She forgot how to swim. One day, she realised that she would never relearn her lost skill. So she went to the ocean.

Alfred showed her in, directed her to the Cave. Bruce didn't look up at her entrance; growled something about being busy. She ignored him. When she took his hand and tugged him from the chair, Bruce tried to pull away. Diana tightened her grip.

This time, his growl was a warning. "Princess..."

"Please, Bruce. Just once. Let's do what I want to do."

She wasn't sure if he picked up on her words or the sad tone of her voice, but he acquiesced. She led him out of the Cave, out of the manor and onto the cliff-top. There, she stopped. Turned to him.

"I came to say goodbye."

He blinked, and for a brief moment the ocean came back again. "Goodbye?"

"Yes, Bruce."

"Are you going back to Themyscira?" His voice dropped an octave. "You haven't resigned from the League."

"I'm not going back to Themyscira," she shook her head. "I meant I'm saying goodbye to you. To that," she added, indicating the sea below them.

"Diana..."

She smiled when she turned back to him. "I don't know what else I can do that I haven't, Bruce. But for whatever reason, you don't want this. And I've known you for a long time, so perhaps I should have realised it before, but c'est la vie." She sighed and reached out to touch his face. "So. Goodbye."

She stepped away from him and moved closer to the cliff-edge turning her back and waiting for him to move away. This farewell, to the ocean itself, this was private. This was her own. Connected, yes, but not belonging to Bruce.

Then she felt his warmth at her back. "Why do you need to say goodbye to the ocean, Diana?" He tried to inject a note of humour into his voice, she heard. He failed. "Are you planning on moving inland?"

She smiled. "No, Bruce, you misunderstand me. I'm not saying goodbye to the sea. I'm saying farewell to my love for it. A love that existed long before you, but, as it turns out, cannot exist long after."

He turned her back to him. "What do you mean?"

"I love the ocean," she said simply. "I loved it from a child, and I continued to do so. But then I found it in two places." She took his face gently between his face, traced his eyelids with the tips of her fingers. "I found it here. And you have me another reason to love the ocean, Bruce. But now you've taken it away. You've taken it all away."

There was no anger in her voice. What good would anger do her now?

But her lack of anger seemed to utterly incense Bruce. "That's it?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"How can that be it, Diana?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You've made it quite clear, Bruce. You don't want me. You won't want me."

"Princess..."

"Unless you're going to announce yourself a hypocrite," she said lightly. Knowing he wouldn't, she brushed past him and made to move away.

And then was once more grabbed.

This time, he kissed her. It was brief, but passionate. "Don't let me do it, Diana. Don't make me the reason you lose something you love."

She kissed him again. "Why not? You know me Bruce. I only deal with the truth. Whenever it comes. However late."

"Then answer me this," he said. "Could you love a hypocrite?"

She looked into pools of ocean. "Yes."

He leaned in, taking his time in tasting her. "Then I'm a hypocrite."

Caution returned to her, and she leaned back, scanning his gaze with narrowed eyes. She found what she was looking for.

The tide was coming in.

* * *

**A/N: And that's the end! I hope you enjoyed these drabbles, and I'd be curious to see which was your favourite. Review please! **


End file.
